Sticky Situations
by squeakykiki
Summary: A number of, what I'd consider, to be mildly to very embarrassing situations that Brennan and Booth find themselves in. Most of these are one shots, some are two and three shots. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Humming softly to himself, Seeley Booth strode into the Jeffersonian. Up on the platform he could see Zach Addy leaning over a set of remains displayed on the table.

Why do we always have to show the bodies like that? Death isn't perfect. Displaying them like that feels like a sham

He noticed Jack Hodgins at the far end of the platform, pointing at something on a monitor and attempting to explain it to Angela Montenegro. To her credit, Angela was smiling politely and nodding sincerely although Booth could see, even at this distance, that the focus of Angela's attention seemed to be in running her fingers through Hodgins' hair. Not that Hodgins seemed to mind.

Cam was standing apart from the pair, her brow furrowed as she scanned a piece of paper in her hand. Her mouth was pursed slightly in concentration.

Booth had just moved his lips to form the words "Where's Bones?" when he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, his partner striding towards him. He turned to face her and had to suppress a grin when he did.

Temperance Brennan's hair was quite dishevelled. He could see that it had been in a bun at some stage of the morning but now loose tendrils floated about her face and the hair at the back of her head was struggling to remain elevated. Her features were soft with sleep, her eyes gentle. She looked beautiful.

But that was not what was tugging at the corners of Booth's mouth. No, it was rather glaringly obvious that Brennan had succumbed to a quick nap at her desk…and had managed to stain a section of her right cheekbone with blue ink in doing so.

"What?" She stood before him and was looking questionably at his frantically twitching face.

"Nothing, Bones. Nothing. It's just that you've got a little something" he moved his hand in a circle across the entire circumference of his face "here." Booth couldn't help but laugh as her eyes widened in panic and she placed a hand on the side of her face.

"You've been dreaming!" He teased in a singsong voice, suppressing the urge to accompany his song with a little dance. Only barely suppressing.

Her eyes widened even further, if that were possible. How does he know? How could he possibly know? If he knows what I was dreaming about… Brennan's face flushed scarlet.

She started to move away from him, but to her surprise, almost as much as to his own, she was stopped by his right hand gently reaching up and holding her chin. His fingers lay along the length of the left side of her jaw line while his thumb rested next to her mouth.

Hardly daring to breathe, she raised her eyes to meet his. "I was only joking Bones. You just…you have a little ink here." On the "here" he moved his thumb upward and gently began stroking the spot.

Every instinct in her was telling her to run. To thank him for pointing it out and quickly make her way to the restroom to remove the offending mark and calm her racing heart. But his touch felt so good…

Surprised that she hadn't bolted, Booth set about removing the ink himself. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the stain. He was being extremely gentle. Her skin was so fair, so pure; he didn't want to blemish it. In spite of herself, she closed her eyes and sighed slightly.

After a moment, Booth slid his thumb from her cheekbone and rested it on her lips. "Lick it." Her eyes shot open.

"What?!"

"Look, just lick it. The mark's nearly gone. I'd lick it myself but it might be rude and, well, I'm pretty sure you don't want to go around with a face that smells like coffee."

Brennan hesitated. Ignoring her rational side, she hesitantly opened her lips and ran the tip of her tongue over the pad of Booth's thumb. Both chose to ignore the electricity that was generated between them by this action. Booth continued his previous administrations and slowly stepped back.

"There. All done."

She smiled at him, eyes lowered.

At this moment they realised that their little exchange had met the attention of the group on the platform. Clearing his throat loudly Booth spun around and started walking towards the exit, dragging Brennan with him. "Right, Bones. We've got a suspect."

Up on the platform, Angela sighed from where she had positioned herself against the railings, the best vantage point. Hodgins poked her in the side.

"Was that a sigh of happiness or frustration?"

Angela groaned slightly and rolled her eyes. "I just wish those two would jump each other already."

Hodgins was about to make a snappy comeback but was interrupted by Cam striding past them, nodding thoughtfully to herself "So do I."

Angela flashed Hodgins a triumphant smirk and went over to explain the situation to Zach who, as usual, looked utterly lost.


	2. Chapter 2

Temperance Brennan ran her fingers through her hair and sat back with a sigh. She had been writing for what felt like hours and could feel her muscles seizing up.

Cases had been pretty slow since the week before last and she had resigned herself to cataloguing the remains of Iron Age skeletons. She was itching to have another case. To be out in the field with Booth. To interview suspects with him and try to figure out motives. To stay up late into the night with him, tossing around ideas. She would also enjoy working with the rest of the team too. Of course.

Now that she had finally stopped, she started wondering vaguely what time it was. The growling of her stomach seemed eager to inform her that it was well past feeding time. Booth would kill her.

Almost as if reading her thoughts, Seeley Booth strode into her office. Hastily placing a hand over her stomach, as though to quench the noise, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you want, Booth?"

He placed a hand on his heart and dropped his head, as though defeated. "Now is that any way to greet your favourite F.B.I. agent?"

Grinning broadly at him she chirped, "You've been eating!"

His brow furrowed in confusion, he nodded. "Yeah, I just had the most amazing lunch…cheese everywhere…and I thought I'd come in and see if you've eaten, coz I figured you hadn't and...how did you know I've eaten?"

She flashed him her most superior look, stood up and leaned towards him, placing her hands flat on her desk as she did so. "The little piece of lettuce you've got caught in your teeth was a pretty good indicator."

He groaned inwardly and unconsciously copied her movements until both of them were leaning across the desk from either side. "Where is it?" He cocked his head to the side and grinned at her.

She bared her teeth at him and tapped her two front teeth with her index finger. He exposed his own teeth and indicated the ones in question. She nodded.

Neither of them moved from their positions as Booth ran his nail between his teeth.

Brennan giggled. "No, not der. Der!"

"Der?"

Both were having trouble understanding the other through clenched teeth, but that made it all the more amusing. After a number of minutes, and quite a few giggling fits on Brennan's part, the lettuce was removed.

He leaned in a little bit more and flashed his charm smile at her, still leaving all of his teeth exposed. Brennan attempted to reciprocate the action but was having trouble doing so as she found the whole exercise quite humorous.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made them both turn towards the door, still grinning like Chesire cats. Angela stood in the doorway, a thoroughly bemused expression on her face.

"Am I interrupting something? Are you guys high?"

"Nope. Not at all. I was just asking Bones out to lunch, that's all."

Snapping out of her trance, Brennan frowned at him. "You just ate. You can't have _two_ lunches."

Already making his way out of the door and past a chuckling Angela, Booth called over his shoulder. "Course I can Bones. Just watch me."

Shaking her head slightly, though whether it was at herself or Booth she wasn't sure, Brennan rounded her desk and jogged after him, muttering to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Flustered, Brennan rushed from her bedroom to the bathroom and back again. Growling in frustration when she realised she had actually forgotten to do anything in the bathroom, she hurried back and fumbled frantically for her toothbrush.

Booth had said he'd call into her this morning and take her out for a quick coffee before work. Which had seemed fine, at the time. Only Brennan had overslept slightly this morning and had completely forgotten their prearranged rendezvous until a few minutes ago. To be fair to her, Booth had made the plans yesterday and so many countless thoughts filtered through Brennan's head on a daily basis that she really couldn't be held accountable when she forgot a few details.

Finally managing to get the toothpaste to squirt onto the toothbrush, and not onto the floor as the three previous attempts had done, Brennan rushed back to her room, cleaning her teeth frantically as she went. She'd already had the quickest shower of her life, now she just had to figure out what to wear.

That shirt and those jeans? Or that top and those trousers? Those trousers only work with those boots though…

Holding up the various combinations to herself in front of the mirror, she decided that the top and trousers were best. She hastily pulled on the trousers and then looked around, half fearful, for the boots. Growling again, she set off on a thorough boot search, jogging through her apartment, depositing the toothbrush, and her subsequent mouthful of liquid, into the bathroom on her way.

In the living room, she fell over something on the floor and groaned inwardly as her knees hit the coach. Found the boots

She quickly slipped the boots on and wobbled off to her room once more. Just as she'd passed through the doorway, she heard Booth calling her.

"Bones? You ready?"

Grabbing her top off the bed, she wrenched it on and called out "Come on in, it's open."

She heard the sounds of her partner entering the apartment and the shuffling of feet as he looked for her. A moment later, his head popped around the bedroom door.

"You ok? All set?"

She nodded quickly at him.

"Just looking for my bag." He nodded thoughtfully, not fully comprehending why a missing bag was such a problem, and crossed the room to look out of the window. "Nice view, Bones."

She cast him a quick appreciative glance, then continued her search of the room.

"Eh…Bones?"

"Hmm?" She glanced at him expectantly, although her mind was still on the bag problem.

"Your...eh…your top."

Finally spotting the bag, she pounced on it triumphantly and then turned to face him, blowing strands of hair out of her eyes.

"What about it?"

"It's inside out."

"Oh." She looked down at herself. So it was.

"Right, well, you just…" She made a circling motion with her fingers. "And I'll just…"

Smirking slightly to himself, Booth obediently twirled around and faced the window. He quickly realised, however, that he could see his partner's reflection in the glass. He opened his mouth to inform her of the situation, then abruptly changed his mind. It was, after all, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

She's a smart girl. She can figure it out if she wants to

Although Brennan's representation in the glass was slightly out of focus, given her distance from the window, Booth saw enough to make his stomach flip-flop and his mouth go dry.

"Ok, I'm done." Booth spun around and faced her.

She raised an eyebrow. "I hope you didn't peek."

"Me? Peek? Never! I'm insulted you'd even suggest such a thing. That is questioning my honour, right there. You should be…"

Rolling her eyes, Brennan marched out of the room. "You coming? I'm in desperate need of coffee."

Booth slowly let out a breath of air. He mentally shrugged himself, trying to banish the alluring images he'd been witness to only moments before.

You're not the only one


	4. Chapter 4

Zach, Angela, Hodgins and Brennan were all standing on the platform, listening as Cam debriefed them on their latest victim.

It was a sensitive matter. The girl had been found under the foundations of a former senator's house. Very delicate. Cam was advising caution.

Brennan let out a low sigh through her nose, pursing her lips slightly as she did. She knew Cam was only trying to be thorough and she admired her professionalism, but she was frantic to start looking at the remains.

Booth swiped himself in and moved towards Brennan on the platform. She noticed something out of place as he did so.

Trying to draw as little attention as possible, Booth positioned himself beside his partner and stood, silently listening to Cam. Most of what she was saying he knew already. Still, it never hurt to spend a little time in Brennan's presence, just appreciating her and breathing in her scent.

Lost in his own thoughts, he failed to notice the object of his wonderings gesturing at him with her eyes. He raised his eyebrows at her.

Obviously Brennan was attempting to be stealthy, which was funny enough in itself, but her supposed covertness was drawing the attention of Zach and Hodgins, who were only too eager for distraction.

Her eyes were huge and she kept alternating between staring intently into his eyes and then looking pointedly downwards. Bewildered, Booth cast a quick glance down towards his shoes. Seeing nothing out of place he returned his gaze upwards with a slight shrug.

Brennan continued her little movements, her eyes almost popping out of her head with the effort to remain inconspicuous. Squeezing his lips tightly together against the laugh that bubbled below the surface, Booth returned to raising his eyebrows.

Her face turning a fetching shade of magenta, Brennan began bobbing her head, making a conscious attempt to jut her chin downward. She looked so much like a flustered chicken that Booth simply couldn't keep the snort of laughter from escaping.

Cam stopped mid-sentence and looked inquiringly at the two. "Something wrong?"

With a sigh of frustration, Brennan reached across Booth, her hand coming to rest midway between his crotch and his hip. That in itself did very interesting things to Booth's lower region. But when she attempted to move her fingers lower, to zip up his fly from it's apparently fallen position, Booth couldn't take it and jumped back, a strangled cry accompanying his move.

"Dude." Hodgins chuckled, shaking his head at Booth's feminine sound.

Struggling to regain his composure, Booth glared at Brennan.

Both started defending themselves at the same time. Frustrated words blended together until, eventually, the two had no idea what they were saying. It was an even bigger mystery to the four eagerly listening in. A discreet, though not in the least bit authoritarian, throat clearing from Cam brought them back to earth and called a halt to their indistinguishable rant. The two were breathing heavily, faces coloured with exertion.

"Bones! You don't just…you can't possibly think…I can…put your hands…inappropriate…." He spluttered in exasperation, his words trailed off only at the sound of laughter from the group. Laughter from everyone but his meddlesome partner.

Hands on slender hips, she faced him. "Well, you weren't doing anything about it. I tried to tell you…"

He cut her off indignantly "Eye movements and head bobbing?" He did an exaggerated impersonation of her actions, drawing further expressions of mirth from their audience.

"That's your version of telling me? And, even if I didn't get it, when let's face it, how could I, you don't just run your hands all over me!"

"That wasn't me running my hands all over you."

He opened his mouth to respond, but an entirely new set of images popped into his head at her words. He shut his mouth with a snap, quickly thinking better of it.

Shaking her head slightly, a slight smile gracing her lips, Cam looked between the two. "Shall I go on?"

Refusing to look at one another, Brennan and Booth nodded curtly, each sulkily crossing their arms in front of their respective chests and glaring moodily ahead, both convinced they were completely in the right.

"OK then."


	5. Chapter 5

That button. He knew he shouldn't have, but he'd spent most of the ride, heck, most of the morning, staring at that button. That one, unremarkable, top button.

Giving himself a mental shake, Booth returned his attention to the road. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of a queue of a long line of traffic waiting for the lights to change. Deciding he needed something else to distract him, he stole a quick glance at his partner's face.

Temperance Brennan was glaring out of the passenger seat window. Her posture was stiff and he could see a muscle working in her jaw. He sighed quietly. After all, no need to give her an excuse to turn the anger on him.

His partner's hair was down, flowing over her shoulders and glinting in the afternoon sun. Her mood had painted a light pink spot on either cheek. She looked breathtaking...but it still wasn't enough to wrench Booth's attention from that captivating button.

Brennan was wearing a dark blouse and flowy white skirt. Booth's explanation was that she had attempted to dress summery but simply couldn't bring herself to dress from head to toe in pale colours. Not that he was complaining. Because that blouse had a button…

It was a relatively low-cut blouse. It was tasteful enough for work but still showed the beginnings of the swell of her cleavage. And that top button…oh, that top button was hanging on by a thread. Sometime during the course of the morning Booth had noticed this interesting development and hadn't been able to think rationally since. If that button decided to make a break for it…all his Christmases would come at once. Booth grunted in frustration. The devil himself was holding that button in place.

Some time later, Booth pulled into the car park at the Jeffersonian. He turned the keys in the ignition and, bracing himself, faced his partner.

"So…"

Brennan glared. "So, Booth, that was a complete waste of time."

He nodded, wearing his best sympathy face. It did nothing to improve her mood.

"The guy told us nothing. It was pointless. The worst part was, I couldn't figure out if he was lying or if he really didn't know anything or…"

"Bones, the other agents will keep questioning him. They'll figure out whether or not he knows something. No big deal."

"But it _is_ a big deal." Brennan threw her hands up to emphasise her point, her body jerking forward with the vehemence of her protest.

Booth would never know if her hand had caught off the button, if the force of her movement had been the last straw or if it was simply divine intervention that caused that top button to finally pop off. He didn't really care either.

Brennan's mouth formed a little 'o' as a substantial amount of cleavage was suddenly on display, as was part of her bra.

"Very nice, Bones."

Brennan glowered.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean your…not that that's not very nice...it is…they are…I meant your…em…" Realising there was nothing he could say to alleviate the situation, Booth hastily picked up the jailbreak button, handed it to her and shuffled out of the car.

Brennan pushed her way out of the door, slamming it behind her. Booth locked the car and moved around to his partner's side. He was very sorry to see that she was now holding the fabric closed with her right hand.

Scowling darkly, Brennan began striding towards the front of the building. Booth jogged after her.

"I don't know why you're so mad, Bones. There'll be a safety pin or something in the lab to fix you up. And, can I just take the opportunity to say, red really suits you. Looked kinda satiny as well. Didn't know you had it in you, Bones."

A snort from his partner told him this hadn't helped. Oh well. He hadn't really expected it to.

"I feel I should point out, though, that it seems you have made a terrible fashion faux pas."

In spite of herself, her interest was piqued and she turned to face him, a questioning look across her features. He'd started this; he might as well finish it.

"I just mean that, for a lady, the "upper underwear" should match the "lower underwear". It's just, that skirt is so white, almost see through white, that it couldn't possibly be housing any red underwear beneath it. Tut, tut Bones. Red and white? You should know better. So, my point is…" He trailed off, index finger mid accusatory wiggle. It had seemed funny when he started it.

Brennan gave him a withering glance, as if he had just made an extremely ridiculous argument. She resumed her striding once more.

Booth slowed to a saunter, pleased with himself. The look on her face had been so incredibly worth it.

Her voice carried back to him.

"There's one fatal flaw in your argument, Booth."

"Uh huh. What's that, Bones?"

"You assume I'm wearing "lower underwear"."

There was a resounding crash as Seeley Booth completely failed to recognise the object before him and walked, smack-bang, into the front door.


	6. Chapter 6

"Booth? You there?"

His partner's voice floated through the door. Nearly choking on his cereal, Booth made his way over to the sound, depositing a few cornflakes and splashes of milk on the floor as he did.

He opened the door, looking surprised, but not in the least bit disappointed.

"Morning, Bones. Can I be of assistance?"

Rolling her eyes at his over-formal greeting, Brennan crossed the threshold into the apartment.

"Now don't be shy or anything. Come right on in."

She couldn't help but grin at him, which quickly turned into a giggle when she saw the steady stream of milk dribbling down his chin.

"Food goes IN the mouth, Booth."

He gave her a brief glare, giving his chin a quick rub as he did. He began to move back into the kitchen. The clicking of heels told him she was following.

Depositing his now empty bowl into the sink (the spoon followed suit after he'd given it one final lick), he turned to face her.

"What's up?"

"I couldn't sleep." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Since I was awake, I figured I'd get ready early and take you out for breakfast." She offered him a quick, hopeful smile. "But, you've already eaten, so…"

He recognised the effort she was making to appear sociable and appreciated it.

"Sounds great, Bones. Cereal never really fills me up anyway."

His heart warmed when he saw the look of pleasure spreading across her face.

"Can't possibly let you pay, though. Wouldn't be chivalrous."

He smirked as she groaned loudly at his words.

"Just for once, could you leave the alpha-male tendencies at home?"

Booth quickly cut her off before she could get anywhere close to full steam.

"I just need to find my tie. It's around here somewhere… Would you mind going into my room and getting me a pair of socks from the top drawer of the dresser?"

He gestured at his bare feet. She nodded curtly, then made her way towards his room, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Good for nothing ball of testosterone." Apparently she wasn't about to let it go just yet.

Booth walked into the living room. He had been watching the game last night and had gotten overly excited at his team's victory. He was almost positive the resulting celebrations included taking the tie off and flinging it somewhere. All he had to do was find it.

A couple of minutes and a bumped head later, the tie was in his hand. Humming triumphantly to himself, he started putting it on. While he was doing this, he absently began to wonder what had happened to Brennan. She was only looking for a pair of socks after all. What was taking so long?

He began to move towards his room. He was about halfway there when he suddenly realised what might have distracted her. Breaking out into a run, he reached the doorframe with a bang. He looked inside fearfully. The sight that met his eyes made a number of things on his person constrict sharply.

Brennan was standing in front of the dresser. The early morning light from the window behind her cast a hazy glow all around her figure. The top drawer of the dresser was open, as he had directed. Brennan's arms were hovering over the open drawer, a pair of underwear in her hands.

Only, this was no ordinary pair of underwear. They were about the same size and cut as a pair of Speedos and had a distinctly jungle pattern across them.

Why didn't I throw them out? Why did I "hide" them in my sock drawer? Did I really think I'd use them one day?

Chuckling softly to herself, Brennan lowered her arms and held the underwear up against her hips. Her lips curling into a delighted smile, she raised her head to meet his eyes.

"What are these, Booth?"

Booth shifted his weight onto one leg and forced his face into a neutral expression, desperate to appear unconcerned.

"Oh, those? They're…eh…they're just…em."

She brought the underwear up to eye-level and squinted at them. "The tag says 'Fluffy Toys for Manly Boys'." She nodded thoughtfully "They are rather soft."

A low moan escaped Booth.

"Yeah, well, as you can see, I never wore them. Don't really know why I kept them. Novelty Christmas present, you know…"

She frowned at him. "You never wore them? Why not? They'd look good. Make you look like Tarzan."

"Yeah, well, you see…you know who Tarzan is?"

She nodded delightedly, dimpling at him.

"Right, well…wait, did you say they'd look good?" He was so distressed that it was taking him longer than usual to process information.

She nodded absently. "Even though they're very small and" she gave them a little stretch "probably very tight, you have good muscle definition. They'd look good on you."

Booth stared at her, flabbergasted.

He was snapped out of his trance when she moved her hands back over the drawer, muttering, "I wonder what else is in here."

He was beside her in two seconds. He gave her outstretched hands a quick slap, wrenched the underwear off her, threw them back into the drawer (making a mental note to burn them later), pulled out a pair of socks and shut the drawer with a snap.

Brennan looked disappointed but began moving obediently towards the door.

"Next time I'm at your place, I'm having a quick rummage through your top drawer."

She shrugged delicately. "You won't find anything."

Booth's face dropped.

"You'd have to try the third drawer. That's where all the good stuff is."

There's a whole drawer?!

"I'll remember that."


	7. Chapter 7

The following day, Booth pulled into the car park of Brennan's apartment complex. He glanced over at his partner, who sighed heavily, the long hours of the day evident on her face. They exited the vehicle silently.

At the front door of the complex, Brennan tossed him her keys telling him she had to pick up her mail and talk to the doorman about something. She advised him to go on up and let himself in. Booth didn't need telling twice. He arrived outside the apartment in a state of euphoria. He let himself in quickly, his mind on one thing.

Giggling madly to himself, Booth tore across the floor to her bedroom. His momentum was so great that he couldn't stop himself before hitting the door.

Rubbing his poor innocent nose, he placed his hand on the door handle, savouring the moment. Curiosity quickly took over and he wrenched the door open, tripping up over himself in his eagerness to get inside.

He moved slowly across the room, not wanting to spoil the effect. He had built this moment up consistently since…well, yesterday.

Booth allowed his hands to hover over the third drawer, a delicious shiver of anticipation running through him.

Suddenly, as though possessed, he pulled the drawer toward himself with such force that it popped out of the dresser.

Easier access

Unnecessarily pleased with this turn of events, he gently carried the drawer over to the bed and carefully laid it down. For the first time, he allowed himself to look, really look, at the objects contained within.

His mouth went painfully dry as he simultaneously broke out into a cold sweat.

An array of colours danced before his eyes. Plucking up all the courage he had, he slid his fingers into the mass of material and began slowly swirling them around. Lace, satin, silk…

Getting braver, he picked up whatever was nearest. An extremely low cut lace bra greeted him. He had a quick mental image of Brennan wearing it, the wine coloured fabric contrasting perfectly with her pale skin and leaving little to the imagination. His knees seemed to be doubting the fact that they could support him. Not that that would matter. Falling face-first into this would be heaven.

His hands moved through the material, sating his curiosity. Along with the bras, in every shade and all deliciously skimpy, he found numerous pairs of underwear of the teeny weenie kind.

The more he searched, the more amazed he became. See-through underwear…garters…underwear with strategic sections missing… His imagination was overloading.

His fingers touched off something solid. Rationale having long since abandoned ship, he speedily removed every obstacle to the hidden object, bras and pants flying everywhere.

What he found there made his pulse pound in a very important region.

Underneath the underwear, lining the bottom of the drawer, was an array of…playthings.

He barely had time to register several whips and one seriously dangerous looking pair of handcuffs before he was interrupted.

"What are you doing?"

Unabashed, he faced her.

"You touched mine, I'm touching yours."

Brennan folded her arms.

"I didn't throw yours around the room."

"You wouldn't have been long at it if you had."

She sighed. Taking this as permission, he moved his eyes back over the drawer.

"Is that a ruler? And a nurse's cap? Hang on, is that a stake? Bones this is seriously…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Looking up at him from her position on the floor, where she was attempting to gather the multitude of underwear to herself, she archly raised an eyebrow and gave him a belittling look.

"Oh please, Booth. Sex is sex. Expand your horizons a little. Open your mind."

Unable to stop a fit of giggles, he held up a particularly interesting looking implement, bending over slightly as the extent of laughter prevented him from standing upright.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Bones, but I'm fairly sure 'your mind' is not what this is intended to expand…let alone open."


	8. Chapter 8

Startled, Brennan turned her head to face the front door of her apartment. Two sharp knocks had succeeded in breaking her concentration.

"Bones? Bones? You there?"

Smiling slightly, Brennan stood up. She shoved the exercise book she had been writing in behind one of the cushions on her couch. Smoothing her hair, she made her way to the door.

She was greeted with Booth's smiling face. "Just thought I'd drop in and see how my favourite forensic anthropologist is doing."

Smiling graciously at the compliment, although in Booth's eyes it wasn't as though Zach was any real competition, she stood aside to let him in.

"Did I interrupt anything?"

Shaking her head, Brennan directed him over to the couch she had only just vacated.

"Not at all. I was actually thinking of starting dinner soon. Would you like to stay?"

He flashed his charm smile at her and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"Indeed I would! Ah. Good company and not having to cook. Doesn't get much better."

She looked pointedly at him. "I'll still make you help." She leaned back and gazed languidly at him.

"You think I'm good company?"

"Yeah, but only in comparison to being alone."

She gave him a quick push.

He laughed and pushed her back.

"You don't intimidate me! I stand by my statement."

Rolling her eyes, Brennan stood up and moved towards the kitchen. Booth made himself comfortable, listening to the sounds of presses and drawers being pulled open.

A moment later, Brennan's head popped out of the kitchen.

"I kinda want Spaghetti Bolognese. Sound good?"

Booth let out a groan of longing.

"Sounds perfect!" He made a move to get up, but Brennan shook her head at him.

"Stay where you are. I just have to run out and get sauce. Mine has gone off."

This time he did stand up. "I'll get it. Don't worry about it."

She strode over and pushed him back onto the couch.

"No, you stay here. I'll get it. I've a couple of other things I should pick up when I'm out."

Shrugging in defeat, he sat back.

"Ok. Only if you're sure."

She nodded firmly, grabbing her bag from beside the couch. At the door, she turned her head towards him.

"Won't be long. Make yourself comfortable."

The door closed after her.

Taking her at her word, he settled back into the couch. As he did, he felt something hard digging against his back. Feeling inquisitive, he did a little search and found Brennan's exercise book. His curiosity overcame him and he began to read. At first he thought it was her new book and was about to stop, but logic told him that it couldn't possibly be. The next few lines confirmed this. He devoured that pages that she'd written, his eyes growing wider with each paragraph, an occasional chuckle escaping him.

When he heard her key turning in the lock, he placed the book discreetly beside him. She did a little whirlwind into the kitchen, depositing her bags as she did and apologising profusely for the length of time it took.

She emerged a few moments later, flicking hair off her face. She caught sight of the grin that was stretched from ear to ear and stopped short.

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." He shook his head slightly, the wattage of his smile increasing.

"Seriously, Booth, what is it?"

Unable to control himself, he sprang up, the book clutched firmly against his chest.

"You write porn!"

Brennan's eyes widened, her face instantly flushed.

"I do not!"

"Kinda hard to argue it Bones when the evidence is right here." He tapped the cover for emphasis.

"Now let's see…" He rifled through the pages.

"It's not porn!"

"Oh really… 'Kathy felt the heat spread like wildfire across her scalp, quickly moving further and further down. She let out a low, desperate moan as she watched Andy pull off his boxers, liberating his throbbing….'"

"STOP!" She thought for a moment and then snapped her fingers.

"You know my books have love scenes, right? Well, it's just a love scene. Practise."

He didn't buy it. "Uh huh. Might have believed you if the whole thing wasn't full of it. It's just them moving from one sexual encounter to the next. You write porn!"

He did a little happy dance, waving the book around as he did.

After a beat, "You write inventive porn…how would that one even work…" He trailed off, keeping his eyes on the book, silently mouthing the words. He pushed his hips out slightly while simultaneously attempting to twist his upper body. After a few moments, he gave up, defeated.

She snatched the book off him, giving him a quick smack on the side of the head with it as she did.

She drew the book tightly against her chest, crossing her arms in front of it protectively. Sighing in annoyance, Brennan shrugged.

"Fine. It just shows I have a healthy sex drive."

He let out a short bark of laughter.

She prickled. "Probably healthier than yours anyway."

"Hey, my sex drive is just fine, I'll have you know. I just don't need to act out my fantasies in a little book"

Brennan glowered and began to move towards the kitchen.

"I'm starting dinner. When you've finished being childish, you can come join me."

Unable to resist, he lowered his voice to a guttural growl, slowly drawing out his words.

"Be sure to make it very, very…hot. Nice and…steamy. Some gentle heat to begin with but I want it to be bubbling over by the end. I like things…spicy. I'll be watching, Bones. Watching very closely. I want to see you SWEAT."

He never saw the book coming.


	9. Chapter 9

Without even glancing at the caller I.D, Brennan flicked her mobile phone open and held it to her ear, shaking her hair out of the way as she did.

"Brennan."

"Bonesh! Bonesh! I'm soooo glad you called me."

Brennan's head did a little jerk backwards in confusion.

"I didn't call you, Booth. You called me."

"You're so silly. Did I ever tell you how silly you are? You are very much silly. That's a whole…this much."

At this point he must have attempted to measure the amount by holding his two hands the relevant distance apart, forgetting all about the phone. There was a thump in Brennan's ear and, a few seconds later, Booth's voice returned, chuckling to himself.

"Silly phone."

A slight smile broke out across Brennan's face.

"Are you drunk, Booth?"

"Am not! You're the one who's…hic…drunk."

"Booth, where are you?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuum." He drew the syllable out for about ten seconds, by the end of which, Brennan was ready to strangle him.

The next voice in Brennan's ear was much deeper than Booth's and far more sober.

"Are you the bones lady he hasn't shut up about all night?"

"Um…I guess."

In the background she could hear an incredibly whiny voice incessantly repeating "'Smy Bones, not your Bones. 'Smy Bones, not your Bones…"

The new voice increased in volume, attempting to drown out Booth's repetitions.

"I'm Larry, the bartender here at Heaven & Hell. Your friend is out here at a stag party with us. He was being the responsible, sober one. Unfortunately his friends seemed to think he was being a spoilsport and so they laced his drink with vodka when he was in the toilet. Hence his present condition. I think he's ready to go home, though. Do you think it would be possible for you to come pick him up?"

It didn't cause her a second's hesitation. "Sure, no problem."

Larry gave her directions and Brennan promised to be there as soon as she could.

Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling open the bar door and peering through the hazy murkiness, searching for her partner.

A shout informed her she had been spotted.

"Bonesh! Bonesh!"

She saw Booth running full pelt towards her. Not knowing what else to do, she moved out of the way of the door, planted her feet squarely on the ground, closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact.

Ten seconds later, she was still waiting. She slowly peeked an eye open. She noticed a man behind the bar, waving, trying to catch her attention. Once he had succeeded, he pointed to the door. It seemed her partner had missed her completely and had simply continued moving.

Raising a hand in thanks, she turned around and jogged back outside.

Booth was standing in the car park, looking completely lost, head moving frantically back and forth.

Brennan tapped him on the shoulder. His relief was extreme.

"BONESH!! Found you." He pulled her into one of the tightest hugs she had ever participated in. Gasping for breath and feeling her feet being lifted off the ground, she started pummelling his back with her closed fists and screaming into his chest.

"Boof! BOOF!!"

Eventually, he set her back down. He started wagging his finger at her.

"Couldn't find you atall, atall. Looked everywhere…"

On the 'everywhere', he decided to do a spin around to emphasise his point. Unfortunately, his brain moved faster than his feet and he tripped up over himself.

With a loud call of "Man overboard!" he fell, rather unceremoniously, onto his backside. He sat mutely for a number of seconds, stunned, occasionally shaking his head, then began to giggle.

After a moment or two, he noticed Brennan still standing over him and roughly plonked her down next to him.

"Oow! Booth!"

He giggled harder.

"Did you see me, Bones? I went splat!" He doubled up, gasping for breath.

"Then…then…then so did you!" Tears were streaming down his face, his features completely contorted. In spite of herself, Brennan joined in on the laughter, though to a far lesser degree.

Presently, he calmed down. As he did, he seemed to forget all about her sitting next to him. He gazed curiously about, humming absently to himself.

His increasingly out of tune warbling was getting on her last nerve, so she poked him experimentally with her toe.

"Come on, Booth, I think it's time we got you home." She stood up, brushed off the seat of her pants and looked down expectantly at him

He jumped in surprise at her voice. Once he had registered what she had said he nodded vigorously and stretched out his arms towards her, wanting her to help him up.

"Booth! I can't pull you. You're too heavy."

He wiggled his fingers in reply.

Several minutes later, both partners were upright. Booth was furiously rubbing his nose from when one of many attempts had gone seriously awry and Brennan had succeeded in kneeing him in the face.

Apologising profusely, she half-pulled, half-dragged him over to the car. As she stood fumbling for her keys, Booth decided the time was right for a little wander, complete with off-rhythm skipping and a deafening rendition of "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands". All in all, it took a lot longer than it should have for the two to enter and strap themselves into the vehicle.

They had barely started moving when Booth thought it would be fun to point out every single solitary car that they passed. Even the parked ones. This incredibly annoying idea was accompanied by frantic hand gestures, just in case Brennan didn't realise what he was referring to.

"Car…car…CAR…carCARcar…car…car...CARCAR…carCAR…car…carCAR…carCARCAR…"

Needless to say, within a few seconds, Brennan was screaming at him to shut up.

He turned his back on her and sulked out of the window. Soon enough he forgot all about being angry and decided it was time to get ready for bed. He had his shoes and socks off before Brennan realised what he was doing.

She spent the rest of the ride tying to convince him that this really wasn't the right place. By the time they pulled up at Booth's apartment he was topless, shoeless, sockless, and his pants were pulled down to his knees. Brennan glanced wearily at her partner, whose face was currently stuck to the passenger side window, snoring loudly.

Well that answers the briefs or boxers question Angela's always wondering about

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I was NOT drunk!"

Brennan sighed heavily.

"Of course not, Booth. You regularly decide to waltz down the hall with me when you're shirtless. And when your elderly neighbour pops her head out to see what all the racket is, your normal response is always to 'sush' yourself and start exaggeratedly tiptoeing down the corridor. In the wrong direction, I might add."

"Yeah, well…"

"And what about cheering me on when I was trying to put the key in the lock? And don't you ever try to cartwheel in my presence again. You nearly took my eye out."

"But that was because…"

"Also, when I was trying to get you in the door, you decided I looked like a horse and tried to climb on my back. Needless to say it didn't work. But you still thought it was a great idea to use your tie as a whip anyway."

Booth made a galloping motion, knees flying. "Gee up!"

"OH, and when I told you to please pull your trousers up in the car, you asked me if I was enjoying the view and that there was no charge for touching."

Booth poked her a number of times in the side. "Just admit it, you loved it." In spite of himself, his face has reddened significantly. He had really hoped that particular, rather hazy, memory had been a dream. A terribly embarrassing dream. He couldn't possibly have pulled his trousers down in front of her. Right?

She slapped his hand away and strode purposefully into her office.

"And don't even get me started about the trouble I had getting you into bed."

A sharp intake of breath and a squeal told them the room wasn't empty.

Angela had been arranging her sketch of the current victim's face on Brennan's desk, ready for when she arrived. Which, surprisingly, hadn't been at the crack of dawn.

She turned to face them, her face more brightly lit up than Brennan had ever seen it.

"You guys finally gave in! Ohmygodohmygod!! Brennan! Details! Booth, shoo! I'm delighted for you and all…you poor thing…you looked wrecked. She is a feisty one! But seriously, girl talk."

Both Brennan and Booth's jaws had hit the floor at exactly the same instant. The two had also started defending themselves at the same moment, though without so much as looking at each other. After a few seconds of increasingly frantic blabbering, Angela stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The partners stopped instantly.

Moving towards the door, Booth cast a quick glance at the wall behind Brennan's head.

"Listen…eh…I'm going to step out for a minute. You can explain the…ah…events of last night to Angela and I'll be back when you're done."

At these words he made a speedy exit and Angela started screaming anew.

It took Brennan so long to convince her friend that nothing of THAT nature had actually occurred, she half wished she was dealing with an intoxicated Booth once more.

Eventually, Angela was set on the right track. Although incredibly disappointed, she was making the most of this turn of events by extracting every ridiculous detail from her all-too-willing informant.

Some time later, Angela was leaning back in Brennan's chair, helpless with laughter. Brennan, standing in front of the desk, couldn't help but add a few chuckles of her own.

"Hang on…hang on…he actually built a fort?!"

Brennan nodded pityingly. "A very poorly constructed fort. That man would never last alone in the wild… Then, when I insisted that it was time for him to come out and go to bed, there was a big silence for about twenty seconds before he suddenly burst out, screaming at me to catch him. Of course, he ran straight into the coffee table. He insisted that I bring him into the kitchen and put a plaster of his knee while he sat on the counter."

Angela was shaking back and forth in the chair as waves of silent laughter coursed through her at the idea of the macho F.B.I. being reduced to such childish behaviour.

"It took forever because he kept flinging his legs around the place and singing some inane song about a pineapple, an ocean and a sponge. He only seemed to remember about one in five words so it was incredibly repetitive. As he was singing, he kept attempting to jab the cartoon characters on the plaster, but, more often than not, he got me instead."

When Angela had completely giggled herself out, she suddenly placed her hands on the desk and cocked her head as though remembering something.

"Did you say that he took his trousers off in the car?"

At this point, Booth re-entered the room.

"BONES!! Did you tell her what I was wearing under my trousers?"

He marched up to Brennan, looking extremely flustered.

Shaking her head innocently, Brennan replied "Oh course not."

Increasingly nervous about the direction the conversation was taking, Booth turned and began to drag Brennan out of the office.

As she was still facing the opposite direction, Brennan saw Angela mouth "Briefs or boxers?" at her.

She slowly shook her head.

Angela scowled at her friend's refusal to share the juicy gossip.

It was only when Brennan raised her eyebrows significantly that it dawned on Angela the other possible meaning a shake of the head could have.

Her mouth dropped open into a delighted, incredulous 'o'.

Just as they reached the door, Brennan shook off Booth's arm and stepped slowly back into the room with a "Wait."

Her manner and tone of voice suggested that something relatively boring and unimportant had just occurred to her.

Careful to keep her voice both disinterested and vague, Brennan asked, "Angela, do you remember what it was we learned about certain…ah…people's nicknames?"

Booth, figuring Brennan had just recalled some obscure detail about the case, had already continued out the door.

Angela nodded excitedly and leaned forward conspiratorially.

Brennan pressed her lips together against the smile that was forming, nodded once as though in approval and swept out of the room.

Angela threw her hands up in frustration.

"Brennan!"

Two seconds later, Brennan poked her head back in the door, a devilish grin on her face and an irresistible twinkle in her eye.

"I can't even BEGIN to explain to you how miniscule the meaning of his must be."


	10. Chapter 10

Booth leaned back into the couch, sighing satisfactorily to himself.

He cast a lazy eye over at his partner sitting next to him.

Temperance Brennan was stifling a yawn, her eyes tightly scrunched with the effort.

The pair had spent the last two hours putting their notes together for the prosecutor. It had been a tough case involving a serial killer and four young children. Booth didn't like to dwell on the details too much. It had been extremely satisfying when they had finally caught the guy, but he almost felt more relieved now that all the work associated with the case was completely finished with. Almost.

"I'm in the mood for Chinese. You in?" Brennan nodded violently at his offer. Laughing softly, he tossed her the cordless phone.

"You ring. I did it last time."

Brennan gave him a little scowl, but did as he asked.

When she was finished, Booth got up and stretched. He rubbed his neck, trying to work out the kinks.

"Would you mind if I went to take a quick shower? I'll leave you some money, just in case it arrives before I'm done." He finished his sentence by digging a crumbled 10-dollar note out of his jeans pocket and placing it on the coffee table.

Brennan nodded absently. "Sure. You go ahead." She picked up his note and began smoothing it out.

Shaking his head slightly at her compulsive behaviour, Booth moved into his bathroom.

Once under the water, he turned the heat right up. His neck was really quite stiff and his upper back was starting to throb. As soon as he felt he had alleviated his bodily aches, he quickly washed his hair. He turned the shower off and stood for a few moments, listening to the final thrum of the last few drops.

He stuck his head out of the shower curtain and did a quick sweep of the room. Heart sinking slightly, he did it again. No, he had definitely forgotten to grab himself a towel.

Grumbling to himself, he slipped and slid his way out of the shower and stood in front of the door.

"Bones?"

"Booth? Are you ok?"

He quickly explained the situation to her, directing her towards the press down the hall where the towels were kept.

He waited, shivering slightly, as he heard her feet pad away. Moments later, she was back.

"Got it."

"Great, thanks."

He opened the door a crack. As he did so, Brennan's hand appeared, groping blindly.

With a yowl, Booth jumped back, crashing into the sink.

Upon hearing this, Brennan began to push the door open wider. Booth reacted immediately. With a shout of "Don't you even think about it!" he charged at the door and forced it closed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Bones?"

"I was just checking to see where you were."

"You don't go in hands first!"

"I just wanted to figure out where you were standing."

He spluttered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

When he managed to catch his breath, he calmly began to explain, as though to a child, "You should have put the towel over your hand and…and…felt your way like that."

Brennan snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous. My tactile senses would have been inhibited with the material over my hand, this is a very soft, fluffy towel by the way, you obviously like your comfort, so there's a very good chance I wouldn't have found you. Also, I could have dropped the towel as I was searching and, knowing you, you've probably left the floor absolutely soaking."

Deciding it was better to pick his battles and not launch a full scale attack over her 'soaking floor' comment or the 'fluffy' reference, which he had a sinking suspicion had something to do with femininity, he returned to the matter at hand.

"You still don't go pushing your grabby hands around doors…"

"I was not grabbing!"

"You were too! Do you have ANY idea what you could have touched…"

There was a sharp intake of breath on either side of the door and a prolonged silence as both parties considered the possibilities.

Brennan suddenly opened the door and pushed the towel through. Booth took it off her without a word. He heard her moving back to the couch, giggling uncontrollably.

He roughly dried himself, feeling as though every inch of his body was blushing. He did a number of quick head-in, head-out movements through the door to make sure she was really gone. Satisfied, he strolled down to his room, forcing himself to carry his head high, the towel wrapped so tightly around his waist he felt sure his lower region would have to be amputated.

Minutes later, he was back in the living room, dressed now in jeans and a fresh t-shirt. Brennan glanced at him as he approached the couch and dissolved into giggles once more.

"Nice shirt, Booth. Very…appropriate."

Fearing the worst, he glanced down at himself. His head had been so muddled that he hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to his clothes. Catching sight of the root of her hysterics, he groaned aloud.

Emblazoned across his chest in big, bold letters were the words "F.B.I.: For Bodily Inspection."

Realising it would be far worse to make a fuss than to just shrug it off, he settled himself beside her. The remaining ten minutes waiting for the food was spent in silence, occasionally punctuated by furtive glances and snorts from Brennan.

It was another half hour before they could make eye contact.

The rest of the evening was spent with numerous "feeling" and "stroking" comments from Brennan while Booth just silently tried to weather the storm with as much dignity as he could muster. He failed miserably.


	11. Chapter 11

"Angela should be here any minute now."

Careful to take slow, deep breaths, Booth turned his head and glared at his partner.

"You said that twenty minutes ago."

She gave him a glare of her own, one so full of disdain it caused his glare to back down a notch.

"That's because she was due to arrive twenty minutes ago."

"Fine."

"Fine."

A few minutes passed before they heard a knock at the door and Angela's singsong voice calling out "Brennan? Sweetie? You there?"

Taking a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come, Brennan let out a shout of her own.

"The door's open, Ange. Come on in."

"Thank God you didn't lock it." Booth muttered to his partner. Brennan grunted in reply.

They heard the swishing movement of the door over the floor's surface and the click of Angela's heels. Moments later, they heard the door swing shut.

"Brennan?"

Booth poked Brennan in the ribs. She looked at him, the embarrassment of their situation evident on her face. She shook her head.

Booth sighed. Angela knew Brennan was here. If she wasn't alerted as to their whereabouts, she was going to find them anyway. The constant movement of her heels told him that. It's not as though it would be difficult.

Giving himself a quick shake to psyche himself up, Booth added his voice to the proceedings.

"Angela?"

"Booth?! What are you doing here?"

"Em…well, I…that's to say, we…ah…could you come into Bones' bedroom?"

Angela's footsteps made an abrupt stop; so abrupt, Booth was afraid she might have walked into a wall.

He could nearly hear the smile in her reply.

"Why, Booth? What are you doing in her room?"

Exhaling quickly, Brennan gave Booth a "brace yourself" look. There was nothing they could do to avoid discovery. In fact, they really needed to be discovered.

"Angela, could you just come into my room please?"

Angela's steps started again. "Ok, but you know, if you guys are naked…" After a moment of processing this, her steps were audibly heard to quicken.

She arrived at the doorframe and peered in. As soon as she laid eyes on them, she broke out into hysterics.

The two partners glanced at each other. They knew they had to look ridiculous…but were they really THAT ridiculous looking?

Gasping for breath at their deadpan expressions, Angela made an attempt at getting an explanation. "So, what…how did this even happen? You just decided, let's handcuff each other?"

Booth settled himself back, preparing to launch into his story.

"Well, see, Bones told me she had this pair of handcuffs that were as strong, if not stronger, than the ones I have for work…"

Unable to stop her laughter, Angela giggled, "It seems kinda obvious that they're not "work" handcuffs."

Booth looked up at the fluffy pink ring encircling his wrist.

"No, definitely not for work. Anyway, she told me about these handcuffs…"

Brennan interrupted, desperate to get her side heard.

"Yes, but you'd already seen them and anyway, it wouldn't have been such a big deal if you hadn't been so determined to prove me wrong…"

Angela's eyebrows shot up.

"You'd seen them before, Booth? Do tell!"

Blushing deeply, remembering the circumstances leading up to that discovery, Booth shook his head.

"Nothing. Not an interesting story. Anyway, she told me about these cuffs and insisted…"

Brennan cut him off again.

"Stop trying to make this all my fault! YOU were the one who suggested we try them out. You were so positive they'd be incredibly flimsy. Why would I buy useless handcuffs, Booth? They need to be able to hold the guy down. No good otherwise. And YOU were the one who decided we should each attach a hand to my wardrobe." She gave him a very superior look.

Angela stood in front of them, shaking with uncontrollable laughter. She really didn't need it explained to her how they were imprisoned. Each sat with the hand nearest to the wardrobe's centre raised above their head, firmly enclosed within the handcuffs. For Booth, this was his left hand, for Brennan, her right.

"So…so you guys are really stuck?"

Both decided to emphasise the extent of their predicament at the same time and using the same action. They both jerked their enclosed hands forward. Unfortunately, the two forgot about the inevitable repercussions of this movement. The two wardrobe doors flew open and whacked the partners on the back of the head. They let out a yell, followed by numerous expletives. They both began furiously rubbing the injured spots with their free hands and glaring at each other.

Struggling to remain standing, Angela managed to choke out "But, what about the keys?"

This time Booth shot Brennan a superior look. Confident in the knowledge that there was nothing she could say to incriminate him, he answered, "Well, it was only after a while, once we were in the stupid things, that genius here remembered…"

"I AM a genius."

Booth glowered and raised his voice.

"Genius here remembered that she lost the keys."

Angela shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh, Brennan… So, you guys were kinda enjoying yourself until you realised you were stuck?" She smirked widely at the pair.

"What? No!"

The force of Booth's protest startled and annoyed Brennan.

"Excuse me? You don't like being handcuffed to me?"

"I…well, what I meant was…I do…maybe in a different context, but…hmm."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Different context, huh?"

Realising he had made a mistake, Booth quickly tried to change the subject.

"Yeah, well…you should have seen her trying to escape. Decided the best way would be to climb on top of me and evaluate the situation from there. Nearly killed me."

Angela's curious, smiling gaze was shifted from Booth to his partner, who was huffing at his last comment.

"I did NOT nearly kill you…"

"You have thighs of steel!"

He looked to Angela for support and repeated "Of STEEL. I'm telling you."

Brennan dropped her head and muttered darkly to herself.

"And hips like knives, for that matter." Booth hastily shut up at the squinty-eyed scowl Brennan threw him.

Deciding that, as much fun as this was, it was really time to free them, Angela moved out of the room and rang Hodgins to ask his advice. In between giggles, she explained the situation to him, popping her head briefly back into the room, at his insistence, to ask where Brennan had bought such sturdy handcuffs (theirs were useless). She gave him a running commentary of the implements in Brennan's cutlery drawer. Within minutes she was back in the bedroom, the appropriate tool clasped in her hand.

It took longer than it possibly should have for them to be freed as Angela kept laughing and bouncing around. Eventually, the two were released. Upon standing, Booth kicked the offending handcuffs across the room.

Still chuckling to herself, Angela exited the room, shaking her head. Brennan followed closely behind, frantically rubbing her poor wrist.

At the doorway, Brennan turned and looked sympathetically at Booth.

"Don't worry. Next time we'll use ones with keys."

With that she flounced out the door, leaving Booth frozen, confounded, behind her.

"NEXT TIME??!!"


	12. Chapter 12

Getting impatient, Brennan knocked on Booth's door. Again. For the third time.

She had been sitting in her apartment, quite bored if truth be told, and decided to call in on her partner. It's not like she had anything better to do with her evening. Why did they always have to meet in her apartment anyway?

"Just a minute!"

Brennan began to tap her foot.

"That's the second time you've said that!"

"Yeah, well, it's the second time I've meant it."

She let out a little growl. Sometimes that man could be so infuriating.

Eventually, the door was pulled open.

"Did you just growl at me?"

Patience long gone, she barrelled past him into the apartment. At about six feet in, she ran out of steam and turned to face him. He was closing the door and avoiding her gaze.

"Booth…"

She caught sight of his face.

"Oh my…are you alright? What's wrong? What happened?"

"What? Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine."

He started to move past her, but she stopped him with her arm.

"You've been crying."

He let out a snort, shifting his weight back.

"What? No I haven't."

"Booth, I can see tears on your face."

He made something that sounded like a dismissive "psh" noise.

"No you can't."

Pursing her lips in determination, Brennan licked the pad of her index finger. Before Booth had time to react, she ran the finger down his cheek and returned it to her mouth.

"See! Salty! Told you."

"Bones! You don't just… You're a very…special person, you know that?"

"Thank you."

Shaking his head, he moved into the living room. Brennan followed at a distance.

"So…what happened? Is it Parker?"

Eyes huge, he spun around to face her.

"God, no. Nothing like that."

"So there is something wrong."

He closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards, breathing deeply.

"No there isn't."

But you've been crying."

"No I haven't."

She could feel her cheeks turning red as she got more and more infuriated by the circular argument. She looked quickly around the room to try and calm herself down.

"Wait, were you watching TV?"

"No." He suddenly looked very sheepish.

A smile twitched Brennan's lips as she felt herself getting closer to victory.

"The TV's clearly on, Booth. Although, it seems to be broken."

She moved around him and stood in front of the machine.

She leaned forward and gave the screen a few experimental taps.

"Why's it frozen?"

"No reason."

Suddenly, all the pieces clicked into place.

"You were watching a…what do you call them…a DVD!"

Dizzy with success, she spun around in a circle, frantically looking for proof.

"Aha!"

She made quite an impressive dive towards the coffee table. Booth, seeing all was lost, got his neutral expression firmly in place.

Brow creased, she examined the box.

"You were watching Bambi? A children's movie?"

"No I wasn't."

Not even dignifying his response with a glance, she scrutinised the front cover.

"This is about deer?"

Booth bit his tongue firmly against the "No it isn't." comment that was dying to escape. Instead he settled for some indistinguishable mumbling.

"Why would deer make you cry? There's nothing sad about them. This fellow looks adorable."

"Hismothergotshotanditwas…hedidn'tunderstand…he'sallalone."

It was out before he even realised it.

Her eyebrows looked set to hit the ceiling.

"Excuse me? How would you know he didn't understand? This isn't one of those ridiculous films where they actually try to feed you the concept that animals can talk is it, because you know, Booth, that's absolutely, completely…"

Annoyed at himself and at her, he threw himself down on the couch.

"You haven't seen it. You wouldn't know." He continued to mutter angrily to himself.

Nearly bursting a blood vessel in the effort to keep a straight face, she sank down beside him.

"You're right. I don't know. Would you show me?" She handed him the remote.

"You want to see this?"

"Yes. Put it right back to the start."

"Ok…" He pressed the necessary buttons and settled back.

Brennan was rummaging for something in her bag.

As the opening credits came on, in all mock seriousness, she held the object up to him.

"Tissue?"


	13. Chapter 13

**This is for jerseybones, as she was getting impatient to read the rest of this.**

**I realised I've forgotten to add this, so; Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Don't own any of it.**

**Thanks so much for your lovely reviews! They mean so much. Thank you.**

Seventy minutes later, Booth turned the DVD off. The endless list of writers, animators, directors and so were on were wrecking havoc on his eyes. He momentarily shut them and gave the bridge of his nose a quick squeeze.

He twirled the remote around in his hands.

The seconds ticked past. He began to whistle, half out of nerves, half to simply give himself something to do.

"So…."

Finally, he allowed himself sneak a peek at his partner. He had expressly forbidden himself from doing so about forty minutes before. Once he did, he really wished he hadn't.

The situation hadn't improved much in the intervening time.

Brennan was inconsolable.

From a few minutes before the prophesised shooting scene occurred, up until the present, she had bawled her eyes out continuously. He was really quite worried about her hydration levels.

He had spent most of the time since that particular scene either running into the kitchen to fetch her glasses of water (whether she wanted them or not) or biting down hard on his tongue to stop the laughter that was building up inside of him from spilling over.

He had found a lump forming in his throat when it was coming up to the fatal shot and subsequent orphaning of the little deer, but her…extreme reaction had rapidly forced any depressing thoughts from his mind. He had never wanted to laugh so much in his life.

"So…you like it?"

She turned her stricken face to him, eyes huge and red rimmed, jaw slackened and skin blotchy from the avalanche of tears.

Booth just couldn't help himself. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. Tears streamed down his face, his entire body shook uncontrollably and an intense pain began to throb in the pit of his stomach from the sheer exertion of it all.

He chanced a quick glance at Brennan. His eyes were so full of tears, however, that the image was incredibly blurry and slid haphazardly across his range of vision. In spite of this impediment, he could still tell that the figure before him was glaring furiously.

After some time, he calmed down enough to be able to roll his eyes heavenward and run his index fingers across the skin below them, to catch any remaining moisture. He let out one final hoot of mirth before meeting her eyes with his.

"That was not funny!"

Booth snorted. "I've never seen someone cry so much in my life. And so energetically too! That was hysterical!"

Her body was nearly trembling with rage.

"It was not! You were the one who was sobbing your heart out over it before I even arrived. All by yourself too."

"Hold your horses now there, Bones. I never sob my heart out. Never. Stop trying to turn the embarrassment on me."

"Horses?!! Stop trying to change the subject, Booth!"

That particular comment appeared to have enraged her even further, despite the fact that he would have thought that impossible.

"Calm down, Bones. I just meant that your…eh…natural and completely normal reaction was prolonged somewhat longer than usual."

That earned him a hard thump on the arm. She was about to respond, when she suddenly became aggravated once more and whacked his thigh.

"And whose fault was that? Every single time I began to stop, you started shaking your head and moaning, "He's all alone. Nobody's there to love him. Completely…UTTERLY… TOTALLY alone." What did you expect me to do?!"

Booth's giggles returned so suddenly he choked, and needed a number of hearty (perhaps harder than they needed to be) smacks on the back to alleviate his breathing difficulty.

He turned to face her once more, the area surrounding his eyes looking, and feeling, quite damp.

"It was just too easy… But other than that, did you like it?"

She crossed her legs and folded her arms, eyes staring straight ahead. Booth could physically see her moving into analytical mode.

"Well, the comparisons between it and the Italian 'bambino' are glaringly obvious. Baby deer is born and is incredibly innocent and childlike through the majority of his development? Doesn't take a genius to work that one out."

Booth seemed to visibly shrink in on himself. He was suddenly very interested in his knees and replied, in a very small voice, "No. Obviously."

Getting into the swing of it, Brennan pushed her hair back behind her ears and settled into the couch.

"The animation was blatantly inspired by Japanese art. All of the softened, misty backgrounds? Clearly Japanese. The forest itself was also taken from the area surrounding the Province Of Neuquén. Instantly recognisable. And then there was…."

Thirty minutes later, and sufficiently humbled, Booth said goodnight to his partner. He leaned back against the closed front door and sighed deeply, suddenly exhausted.

He really should have learnt his lesson by now.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Sigh, nope not mine. Maybe now...no.**

**Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews!**

Booth marched into the Jeffersonian. It was late evening and he was on a mission to bring his partner out for something to eat. Brennan spent the majority of her day thinking wonderful, complex thoughts and the mundane, ordinary things like three square meals a day often fell by the wayside.

He gave a cursory glance around the lab. Nope, no Brennan. No one else either. Sensible squints had probably gone home. His partner, however, was another matter entirely. He set his sights on her office.

Squaring his shoulders, he pushed open the door. As he glanced around the room, his argument died on his lips.

The lamp on her desk cast a soft glow around the room. Surprisingly, Brennan wasn't making use of the lamp while she frowned at something on her computer. No, instead, his partner was curled up on her couch, fast asleep.

Her wavy hair tumbled about her face, some of the ends of it resting over the furniture's edge. Her dark eyelashes contrasted perfectly against her porcelain skin. She had drawn her legs up close to her body and one arm lay across her knees. The other arm however…the other arm made Booth smile widely.

Brennan's left arm was up against her face, her thumb firmly placed in her mouth. As Booth watched, the gentle movements of her cheeks, which threw her cheekbones into even sharper relief, let him know that his partner was, indeed, sucking her thumb.

Chuckling softly to himself, Booth watched her a moment more, then began to back quietly out of the room. He couldn't take his eyes from her peaceful face and, so, didn't look where he was going. Unfortunately, his foot hit off the doorframe with a loud clunk.

Brennan shot up, eyes wide and arms flailing. After a moment, she recovered her bearings and gave her partner a steely glare.

Booth shuffled sheepishly. "Sorry, Bones."

Shaking her head slightly, Brennan stood up and stretched.

"It's fine, Booth. What do you want?"

Choosing, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, to ignore her rather blunt manner, he flashed her a grin.

"I want to take you out for some dinner."

To his astonishment, she cast a quick look around her office and then nodded slowly in agreement.

"Sure. I think I'm done here anyway."

Recovering quickly, Booth's grin grew even wider and he attempted to steer her towards the door. She flapped him away while she gathered up some papers off her desk. Several attempts and a stinging forearm later, he was pushing her out into the lab.

"You didn't have to slap so hard, you know." His voice was full of hurt and accusation as he tenderly rubbed the injured spot.

She rolled her eyes and quickened her pace slightly.

He jogged after her, placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to slow to a walk.

"Easy, Bones. Long day. Not in the mood to go racing around after you."

He shot a quick, sly glance at her.

"So…are you going to tell me about your little secret?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He smiled delightedly, nodding to himself in a very satisfied way.

"Mmhmm, I think you do. When I came into the room, you were sucking your thumb. Any comments?"

A light flush spread across Brennan's cheek.

"Oh. Well, I was…you saw that?"

"So you admit it?"

"You can stop skipping about, Booth. It's a calming movement. It's completely reflexive. It's been proven that young babies and children find it very soothing. And I have to say, I agree."

"You agree?"

"Yes. I find sucking on it very relaxing."

Booth nearly injured himself trying not to laugh.

"You're gonna have to be very careful with what you say here, Bones."

She looked very confused.

"What? I'm simply saying that by sucking on it, it can help to relieve my stress and so help me get to sleep. It's not weird or anything. It's extremely useful. I couldn't do it all the time, though. That would be exhausting."

Booth couldn't stop a quick burst of laughter.

She looked accusingly at him.

"Laugh all you want, but I'm telling you, it works. You should try it sometime."

"Eh, no, I don't think I'll be doing that, Bones. But…"

He lifted up the hand that wasn't clutching papers and measured it against his own.

"If you ever want to try something bigger, you can suck on mine. I'm sure it would be just as…ah…soothing. Perhaps even more so."

At his dissolution into giggles, Brennan's brow furrowed and she stopped, looking at him suspiciously.

"Wait, what?"

His laughter increased, making it difficult for him to get his next words out.

"I think it's a great idea. You will be nice and relaxed and I, well I'll be helping you, so we'll all be very happy. Just to warn you, though, it might take you a while to get your mouth around it."

He nodded pityingly at her, desperately trying to keep his giggles under wraps.

"It'll be a fair bit larger than what you're used to, I can tell you that. You poor thing, look at what you've had to make do with. It'll probably take a lot of practice. I'm sure if you keep trying though…"

At this point he couldn't go on, his overpowering laughter making speech completely impossible.

"What are you talking about?"

He raised his eyebrows, all innocence. Looking at her in a very significant way, he slowly moved his hands apart, palms facing inward, stopping them quite a distance apart, as though measuring something rather long. He cleared his throat, never allowing his gaze to waver from her own, and then moved his fingers in against their respective palms so that only his thumbs remained sticking out. He gave them a quick, playful wiggle.

"My thumb, Bones. Thumbs. Isn't that what we were talking about?"

Her frown deepened.

Suddenly I'm not so sure


	15. Chapter 15

**This one is once again for jerseybones as she came back to us over on the other site AND...she gave me a crown! points happily**

**Thank you so much for the reviews! They make my day!**

Temperance Brennan sighed contentedly as she allowed the jet of water from the shower to wake her sleepy muscles and warm her body. She had slept badly the night before and was in desperate need of caffeine.

A few minutes later Brennan was smoothing a palmful of conditioner into her auburn hair. Feeling sufficiently invigorated and ready to face the day ahead, she left the hair product in for a shorter length of time than usual before starting to rinse it out. As soon as she was convinced her hair was completely clean, she turned off the shower and allowed herself to stand for a moment in the billowing steam.

No sooner had the pounding of the water stopped than she heard a loud banging and her partner's voice calling her.

"Bones? Hey, Bones! You there?"

Cursing colourfully, Brennan slid open the shower door and groped for her towel. Once her fingers found the soft material, she wrenched it towards herself, running towards the bathroom door as she did so.

"Coming Booth!"

She streaked across her apartment, extremely thankful Booth couldn't see her. Just as she reached her front door, she managed to pull the towel roughly around herself. The aerodynamic action of her frantic run had prevented her from settling the fabric around herself while she was in motion.

She wrenched the door open and looked expectantly at her partner.

Booth's jaw was on the floor. Oh my good, sweet, divine God.

Brennan's hair was in loose, wet, dark tendrils around her face and cascaded down beyond her shoulders. The ends of the hair strands were dripping water onto the creamy skin below them. The completely soaking, glistening skin. Her left hand was holding a fluffy white towel against her chest. However, the hand was possibly exerting more force than was necessary as her cleavage was accentuated and the top of it pushed up over the edge of the towel. To make things even more difficult, she was breathing heavily.

Drop, towel. Drop

He barely had time to register the droplets of water that were running down her legs before his partner addressed him.

"Eh, Booth? You ok?"

He shook his head slightly, then seemed to think better of it and nodded. Finally he shrugged, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"You want to come in?"

He nodded mutely.

He closed his eyes and couldn't bring himself to breathe as he squeezed past her into the apartment. Shampoo and some kind of floral scent invaded his senses, making it difficult to move in a straight line.

Booth turned to face her, a goofy grin on his face as he gave her an appreciative once-over. Ever oblivious, Brennan just looked at him expectantly.

"What's up, Booth?"

Extremely annoyed at himself for not announcing the reason for his visit earlier, he held up the two take-away coffee cups in his hands. He made an attempt at a charm smile, but his poor libido was so compromised that it wasn't a very persuasive effort. Brennan didn't seem to notice though. Her eyes had latched onto the steaming cups. She took them off him and placed them on the kitchen counter.

"Mmm. Exactly what I need. Just let me run in and get changed. Wouldn't want this slipping down now, would we?" She gestured quickly at the towel with an innocent grin and turned towards her bedroom. She knew there was no possible way he felt about her the way she was constantly trying to deny she felt about him.

Booth hurriedly turned away. Even though his back was turned and there was absolutely no way she could see, he moved his hands down below his belt buckle, frantically trying to hide the obvious manifestation of his feelings. He made a feeble attempt at twiddling his thumbs, as though justifying his hands' position. He let out a loud, frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry. Is it really that hard?"

"What?!" Squeaking incredulously, Booth spun back around, his face a brilliant ruby red.

Brennan was standing in the doorway of her room glaring at him.

"To just wait a few minutes? Look, I appreciate that you brought the coffee, but I want to get changed. I won't be long, I promise."

Nodding quickly, eyes averted, Booth managed to croak out. "Sure. Changing is definitely advisable." He swallowed audibly.

Brennan took another few seconds to scrutinise him. Sighing, she continued on into her room and shut the door behind her.

Booth stood motionless for an entire minute. Finally, willing his body into action, he decided to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. Once seated, he attempted to cross his legs, hoping it might help his little (I really wanted to say something the complete opposite of 'little', but that's not really the way the saying works, is it? Sigh) problem. Unfortunately the poor man was so flustered that he completed the movement with far more strength than was needed, resulting in a prolonged whimper and a lot of wincing.

Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths In. Out, Booth began to slowly count backwards from a hundred.

It was going to be a long day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Gosh darnit, keep forgetting to add this in. Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. But, oh, if it was...**

**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews!**

"That was not funny, Booth!"

Temperance Brennan stormed up the side of a gently sloping hill, at the bottom of which a decomposed body had been found. Flies of every description had been attracted to the area, making it a very uncomfortable environment to work in. To make matters even worse, the temperatures had soared in the last few days, making the air extremely clammy and the rate of decomposition accelerate dramatically.

Seeley Booth was scrambling up behind her, attempting to conquer the topography in his own assured, macho way but the effect was foiled somewhat as he could barely stand for laughing.

"What are you talking about, Bones, that was the funniest thing I have ever…"

She stopped so abruptly, he didn't realise until it was too late. He walked smack bang into her behind. The glare she had been mustering to give him increased in intensity by tenfold. He had the grace to look somewhat apologetic, even if it was an 'I can't believe my own luck' apologetic.

"That was the singular most unfunny thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life and if you…"

The relatively straight face that Booth had managed to force himself to make was instantly wiped off once he attempted to look up at her. He dissolved into chuckles once more, wheezing and choking with laughter.

Brennan drew herself up to her full height, her body trembling with rage. Deciding the only way to relieve her pent-up frustration was through physical activity, she gave Booth a hard push to his chest while simultaneously planting a swift kick to his ankle.

Under normal circumstances, the F.B.I. agent would have been unaffected, if slightly bruised, which he never would have admitted to. However, the extent of his hysterics had left him in something of a vulnerable state and Brennan also had the advantage of upper ground. Under these circumstances, he stood no chance. He went flying.

Refusing to give him a second glance, Brennan continued to pound her way up the slope with all the dignity she could muster. When she reached the top she stared moodily around her: the sky, the grass, her fingernails were all closely examined; anything, anything but look down at him.

A few seconds later, a slightly winded Booth joined her.

"There was no need for that!"

She rounded on him, fists clenched tightly by her sides.

"There was every need! You were being so arrogant, so haughty, so imperious…"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"I love how you always go for the difficult words when you're mad."

She muttered something inarticulate that didn't sound in the least bit flattering, before turning sharply on her heel and bounding off, pony-tail bouncing merrily in time with her steps.

Sighing quietly, Booth jogged after her. She had reached the car, still resolutely avoiding his gaze, and he was only a few feet away when a wicked grin spread across his face. He knew he really shouldn't but the temptation was too much to resist.

"Bones?"

In spite of everything, she turned to face him. Her posture was stiff, her lips pursed and her eyebrows drawn together and raised slightly.

"What do you want, Booth?"

"It's just…eh…you have a little something on your head."

With a strangled scream she advanced on him. He could actually feel the hairs on the nape of his neck stand to attention. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea.

"Have I? Have I really?"

Her face turned purple with rage and she punctuated every syllable with a furious prod to his chest.

"I was actually aware of that, seeing as how you've already pointed it out to me a number of times since it occurred. When it first happened, you nearly killed yourself laughing and pointed very energetically at me. THEN you called over anyone in the vicinity to come and inspect me, just in case your eyes were deceiving you."

Lips twitching furiously, Booth struggled to keep his emotions in check.

"Can you blame me, Bones? You yourself were acting so arrogant, so haughty, so inferior…"

"Imperious."

"Whatever…imperious with everyone and then when you finally stood up and stopped bossing everyone around, this bird comes out of nowhere and just went splat!"

Booth doubled up, tears streaming down his face.

Brennan glowered down at him. She could barely see him, she had drawn her eyes into such narrow slits.

"I wasn't finished. THEN you began chanting "Bulls eye!" accompanied by an extremely rhythmically challenged dance, just in case people within a ten-mile-radius weren't aware of the situation."

Booth began nodding energetically through his tears, a look of delight stretched across his face as though he had forgotten those particular events and was overjoyed at being reminded.

"THEN, this was accompanied by another vicious prod, this time using her nails to full advantage, you decided it would be a great idea to take a picture of me and send it to everyone you know with a caption I am far too ladylike to repeat."

Booth ended up sinking to the ground, completely succumbing to the hilarity of the situation. Brennan was not amused. It was only when she lowered her head down in level with his that he finally stood up.

"Phew, Bones. I don't think I want you riding up front with me. God, that could knock you out."

He hastily changed his mind in response to the filthy look she shot him.

They finally settled themselves into the car. Brennan glared moodily out the window, her arms folded tightly against her chest. Booth began humming, but quickly stopped at Brennan's growl of frustration. Minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly. Booth couldn't stand the silence.

"Bones?"

She directed her most withering look at him.

"What?"

"You have a little something…"


	17. Chapter 17

**Ok, I am so so so so so so so sorry for the lack of updatage. Had computer and internet problems of monumental proportions that are causing me to mimic a bull just thinking about them all...oh the rage...**

**Anyhoo, once again, not mine. Although maybe...nope. I was mistaken. Still not mine. sigh**

"Sweetie! Where have you been? You're so late!"

Angela was practically buzzing as she interrogated her friend, hopping frantically from one foot to the next. Brennan was getting vertigo just looking at her.

"Ange, I told you I was going to catalogue those bones before…"

Her sentence was cut off as Angela frantically waved a hand in front of her face.

"I know, I know. But nobody ever MEANS that stuff. Except you. They just say it to sound dedicated. Try it sometime."

Brennan's forehead scrunched up in confusion.

"Say something I don't mean? Angela, that is the most irresponsible…"

Angela's loud frustrated sigh cut Brennan off once again.

"Ok, fine. Whatever. At least you're here now. That's all that matters."

Taking Brennan's arm, she began to guide her through the throngs of people gathered for the annual F.B.I. fundraiser. Most years the Bureau held a raffle with various, enticing prizes. If the attendees were lucky, a luxury holiday was sometimes auctioned off.

This year was different. This year they had decided to auction off some of their agents. There were two reasons for this. One: it was significantly cheaper than an exotic holiday. Two: the Bureau had been so inundated with e-mails from a certain artist requesting this particular type of fundraiser that they eventually gave in just to give the computer system a break.

The two women entered a large hall. Circular tables had been arranged haphazardly around the room; no more than five seats to a table. At the top of the room there was a makeshift stage with a large banner over it with the words "F.B.I. Agent Auction" emblazoned across it in sparkly red writing. Apparently a certain artist had also helped with the decorating. It was something of a mystery to the Bureau why this particular lady was so eager to help. But eager she was. And, in all honesty, there was little anyone could do to stop her.

Smiling broadly at everyone they passed, Angela eventually brought Brennan to their table where Hodgins, Zach and Cam sat waiting. All three greeted Brennan warmly as she sat down and took in her surroundings.

"What do they mean, an "Agent Auction"?"

Angela made an impatient 'give me strength' motion.

"Sweetie, I told you. They're auctioning off agents this year. There's a list of potential agents to be…ah…bought (Brennan's eyes went a little bit squinty at this) and people put down the name of the agent they're looking for and the amount they're willing to pay on the ballot sheet. Very simple really."

Mouth slightly open, Brennan looked around the room.

"Ok then, where can I…stake my claim, I suppose."

Looking gleeful, Angela began bouncing in her seat.

"You can't! Polling's been closed!"

Brennan's face dropped, her eyes widening in disappointment.

Angela reached over and patted her hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry. We put your name down for someone too, so you wouldn't miss all the fun."

Brennan instantly perked up, a smile lighting up her face. She settled back into her chair. Almost as soon as the calm had come, it vanished. Brennan suddenly bolted up straight. She flapped frantically at Angela, her face stricken.

"Wait, what do you mean by fun? Just normal fun or…Angela, who did you put down?"

Angela broke off her running commentary of sweet talk into Hodgins' ear and cast Brennan a wide-eyed look, face a picture of innocence.

"Oh, I don't know, honey. Just somebody. Anybody really. Didn't really think it mattered. Unless you had somebody in mind…." She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

Brennan hurriedly sat back.

"No, no. That sounds fine. You…eh…you didn't bet TOO much, did you? Not that I wouldn't mind paying it…it's just, I don't really want to win."

Hodgins gave a short bark of laughter, his eyes dancing.

"Don't worry about it. It's on me. Angela asks me to do anything and…well I just can't deny her."

He gazed adoringly at her.

Angela leaned in conspiratorially. "The trick is to start off with the words, "If you love me you'll…" Works every time."

Brennan leaned forward hopefully. "And the amount?"

Angela glanced quickly at Cam, who smoothly interjected.

"You never really know how much money people will end up bidding on these things. Maybe you'll win. Maybe you won't. It's not really to do with the amount. It's all up to chance."

Brennan looked satisfied with this answer, even if Zach let out a rather incredulous snort that Cam quickly shushed. She settled back into her chair as an Agent Brown, the host for the evening, brought a mic up to the stage and asked for anyone still outside to please come in and take their seats. The movement of the many stragglers shuffling in to find a vacant table prevented Brennan from hearing Hodgins' hissed whisper to Angela, "She'd better win! Five grand!"

Angela smiled impishly at him and raised a finger to her lips.

Agent Brown thanked everyone for coming and gave a short history of previous fundraisers and what the capital raised by them had been used for. Once finished, he wasted no time in starting the proceedings.

Brown would call out a particular agent's name. That agent would then enter from the door at the back and walk the length of the room to the stage. This was often accompanied by wolf whistles and a number of lewd, good-natured shouts.

When the agent reached the stage, he took a few minutes to parade across it. This was when the screams and whistles grew to deafening levels. Brown listed a number of interesting, quirky, good qualities about the agent as he strutted his stuff. When the little parade was completed, Brown announced the figure that the bidding had started at. The agent often made a sad, puppy-dog face at the amount and began repeatedly raising his hands, palm upwards, toward the ceiling, hoping the eventual figure was significantly higher.

Brown then called out a few subsequent figures, not necessarily ones that had been bid, just ones that were higher than the first but lower than the winning amount. This was done in the manner of: "Was it fifty dollars?…No. How about sixty dollars? Wrong again!" and so on and so forth. Eventually, with much drum rolling and suspenseful pauses, Brown announced the winning bid and the bidder's name.

The bidder then joined the agent on the stage, often greeted with a quick hug or a sweeping kiss for the audience, and led them back down to their table. And on it went. An hour into the show and everyone was in high spirits. There had been enough entertaining catcalls and witty banter on all sides to keep everyone's interest piqued.

"And now…the final agent."

A hush fell over the room. Angela started squeaking quietly. Brennan looked confusedly at her, but Angela just shook her head and gestured back at the stage. Her squeakings increased in pitch.

"We decided we had to end the evening with this particular agent. The winning bid on this guy was so much, we felt it really had to be put at the end, if only to end proceedings on a high note."

Zach cleared his throat while shooting a glance at Angela, the significance of which was lost on Brennan.

Brown scanned the whole audience, leaving them all in suspense until he finally announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, would you please welcome…Special Agent Seeley Booth!"

The doors at the back opened for a final time and Booth entered. He walked the length of the room, flashing his famous smile on all sides. The screams and yells reached fever pitch and a number of people started stamping their feet energetically on the floor. Brennan shook her head in amusement. It figured really. She should have known Booth would have the highest bid. He WAS heart-stoppingly handsome.

_Stop that Temperance!_

When Booth reached the stage and began to swagger across it, Brennan was sure the roof was going to lift off. Never had she heard such loud shouts and bawdy comments. And about her partner too. Whenever she actually managed to comprehend what was being said about him, she blushed furiously from her roots right down to her stylish heels. People were really saying that…about Booth? Not that it wasn't true…or at least, she really wouldn't be surprised if it were true, but still…

It was almost impossible to hear what Brown was saying about her partner. Nobody seemed to mind in the least. All the distraction they needed was displayed in front of them. When Booth finally stopped parading, it took the room a few extra minutes to quieten down. Booth made use of the free time by searching the room for Brennan. He found her and gave her his biggest, brightest, most charming smile of the evening. Brennan didn't think she could go any redder. Angela looked as though she might faint.

Brown held up his hands for silence, which was granted within a few seconds. He grinned out at them all.

"The starting bid for this man was fifty dollars."

Angela let out a loud "Boo!". Hodgins frantically hushed her and Brown continued.

"The starting bid was fifty dollars…and what do you think the winning bid was? Do I hear a hundred dollars? No. How about two hundred? You're way off! Five hundred? Not even close!"

A hum of anticipation filled the room. Brown left them all waiting a few seconds.

"The final bid for Special Agent Seeley Booth was…five thousand dollars…."

Brown was prevented from continuing with his announcement as the hall erupted into the loudest screams and cheers so far. Angela began shaking every movable part of her body and squealing louder than the rest. Hodgins muttered something about "no living with her now". Zach and Cam exchanged glances, smiling broadly.

Brown tapped the mic a few times to get everyone's attention.

"The winning bid was made by a….Dr., that part's in capitals, folks, a DR. TEMPERANCE BRENNAN! Come up to the stage, Dr. Brennan, and claim your prize!"

Brennan's body went slack. She turned wildly to Angela, mouth open but unable to form any words. Angela was no help. She was giggling wildly and clapping her hands like a child. The best Brennan could manage was a number of open-close mouth movements, rather like a fish. She glanced hurriedly up at the stage to see how Booth was taking the news.

Booth had fallen over. At Brown's revelation his knees had given way. He now stared at Brennan from his somewhat lowered vantage point, eyes huge, eyebrows somewhere in his hair and mouth gaping.

Brown laughed and spoke into the microphone again. "Come on up now, don't be shy! Everybody give a big cheer for Dr. Brennan, the highest bidder of the evening."

The room was filled with clapping and calls of encouragement. Before she really knew what happened, Brennan had been dragged to her feet by four pairs of hands and propelled in the general direction of the stage.

She looked around her, agog.

"But I didn't…"

People from other tables began giving her reassuring nudges forward. Angela's voice floated across the din, "Nobody likes a sore winner, sweetie!"

In a daze, Brennan reached the top of the room, where she was fairly hauled up onto the stage by Brown. She was extremely grateful: there was no way she would have made it up otherwise.

Booth had since rejoined the land of the vertical and had apparently recovered. His stance was relaxed, his eyes dancing and his smile full-on charm. Brennan wasn't quite sure how to react. She stood mutely, running her fingers through her hair.

Brown took hold of her wrist and moved her over towards Booth, Brennan stumbling all the way. When they reached the agent, his smile did the seemingly impossible and increased in wattage. His eyes were only on her. Stepping behind them, Brown joined their two hands together and raised them up in a gesture of triumph.

"Let's hear it for Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan!"

Angela led the way, the screaming, stampings, whistling, shouting and general mayhem spread like wildfire across the room, rumbling up through Brennan's body and rattling her ribcage.

"But…I didn't…."

Booth stopped her feeble protest by placing his free hand over her mouth.

"It's alright, Bones."

She relaxed slightly.

"You don't have to pay to spend time with me. I'll do that for free."

Her indignant spluttering was lost in the roar of the crowd.


	18. Chapter 18

**Apologies again for the lack of updating. I'm gonna go ahead and dedicate this one to Kasper...coz she reminded me to update in the first place. I'm far too forgetful for my own good.**

**Once again, not mine. But, oh, if it was...**

Fifteen minutes later, Booth and Brennan had managed to battle their way through the crowd to the squints. This was no mean feat as every step they had taken included being accosted by members of the audience, chattering and squealing merrily. If Brennan heard one more comment about "partners in more ways than one" she was going to karate chop whoever said it. And then a couple of other people in the surrounding area, just so everyone got the point.

Booth, unsurprisingly, had been no help. He had even fuelled people's suspicions by wrapping an arm around her waist and using his other hand to run his fingers through her hair or gently touch her face. Every time Brennan attempted to dispel these rumours or impatiently swat his hand away, Booth would lean forward conspiratorially and say, "She's just shy." He was another one who could do with a karate chop to the head. And maybe a kick in a strategic area for good measure.

Zach was beaming madly at the pair, while simultaneously looking slightly nervous that Booth might hurt him for being so delighted. Cam's lips were pressed together, mouth twitching as she fought against a smile. Lord knows she'd been waiting long enough for those two to open their eyes and see what was so glaringly obvious to everyone else. And while Angela's scheming had been about as subtle as a wet fish in the face, she really hoped this little event would be the catalyst for the change in their unique relationship.

Poor Hodgins looked exhausted. Dealing with the ever excitable Angela could be draining at the best of times. Dealing with an Angela who felt as though all of her Christmases and birthdays had come at once…well, it was no real surprise that Hodgins felt like sleeping for the next month, at least. Angela herself looked set to launch into the stratosphere. She had the appearance of a puppy that's had about a litre of Coke. Brennan took one look at her face and snapped, "Not a word, Angela. Not one word."

Angela pointed at herself, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Me? I wouldn't say anything. Wouldn't dream of it. Who am I to comment on the workings of Fate?"

Brennan began to quiver with frustration. Through gritted teeth she growled, "That was not Fate. There is no such thing as Fate. That wasn't even close to Fate or chance as you deliberately bid a ridiculous amount on the agent you knew perfectly well would cause me the most embarrassment."

Booth took a step away, feigning hurt.

"Ridiculous? You think that was ridiculous?"

He flashed his best smile at her; the one that, in spite of everything, made her knees turn to mush and butterflies zoom madly around her stomach. Taking advantage of her crumbling defences, he pulled her to him once more.

"Come on, Bones. You know I'm worth it."

Sighing gently in defeat, Brennan made a little shaking motion with her head.

"At least it's over now. We can all go home and forget the whole thing ever happened."

She looked hopefully around her.

She was met with five incredulous looking faces.

"Home?" Cam spluttered. "But what about your date?"

Brennan nearly hit the floor.

"Date?" she managed to squeak, her body shrinking in on itself.

Hodgins let out a quick guffaw.

"Dude, your voice just went all kinds of crazy."

Booth snapped Brennan out of her reverie by swinging her around to face him.

"Didn't you know? As if I'm not prize enough, we get to go on a romantic dinner date tonight, funded by the Bureau, which they'll now be more than happy to do on account of how much money was made. I figured that's why you were so embarrassed."

Unable to banish the squeaking from her voice, Brennan managed to choke out, "No. No, I definitely did not know that. I was embarrassed because…"

She shook her head wildly.

"A date? A real date?"

Angela nodded frantically; her face looked in danger of splitting her smile was so wide.

"Mmmhmm. A real date. Alone. By yourselves. And Booth, you have to be very nice to Brennan. You're her prize after all. Do anything she wants."

Brennan opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was gibberish. She quickly shut it with a snap. To his credit, Booth looked slightly flustered about it himself. Cracks were becoming evident in his confident façade. When she saw that she wasn't the only one nervous about the prospect, Brennan began to relax. Booth could actually feel the tension leaving her body. He gave her an encouraging smile, which she returned. Maybe it would be all right. Who knew, it could even turn out to be fun.

Her embarrassment returned with a bump when she managed to wrench her gaze away from Booth's and back to the squints. All were grinning madly, Cam and Angela even bouncing up and down. If ever there was a time for a gaping hole to appear in the ground, this was it.

Grumbling inanely at anyone and anything, Brennan began to march towards the exit, the squints and Booth hurrying behind her. Angela skipped the whole way out, getting in everyone's way and entangling herself in a fair few people's legs. Not that she minded. At this moment, she didn't mind anything.

The squints quickly dispatched themselves off to their respective modes of transportation. All four of them called goodnight to the blushing couple, Angela adding in a few choice shouts along the lines of "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" (accompanied by a "Which isn't much!" clarification from Hodgins) and "If you can't be good, be careful!" All in all, the two were left with a serious interest in their shoes and the ground below them long after the giggling foursome had left.

"So…"

Booth eventually broke the silence, the nervousness that was pounding in his chest undeniably evident in his voice.

Brennan looked over at him and offered a small smile.

"So…"

Booth ran a hand through his hair, then slapped it down uselessly at his side.

"Um, where's your car?"

Brennan looked sheepish.

"I…I didn't bring it. You gave me a lift this morning, remember? So I just took a taxi from the Jeffersonian."

Booth nodded absently.

"Right, right. Well, you'll be needing a lift then."

Smiling broadly at the usually suave agent, Brennan nodded.

Booth nodded back, "Right. Well…right. Come on then."

They made their way over to Booth's car in silence. Neither knew what to say or how to even begin saying whatever it was they couldn't. Booth leapt in front of Brennan and opened the passenger side door for her first. For once, she didn't berate him. She simply smiled and gave a small nod of thanks. This was far more disconcerting than if she'd just yelled at him.

Flustered and feeling decidedly off-kilter, Booth settled himself into the driver's seat and strapped himself in. He cleared his throat noisily a couple of times as he started the car and drove out into the bustle of evening traffic.

Her lips pressed tightly together, Brennan glanced over at her partner.

"So, em, where are we going for this da…ah…dinner?"

Booth grunted to show his appreciation at her attempt to start a conversation.

"A restaurant called 'Bonne Appetite'. It's nice, apparently. Very…eh…romantic."

He'd lost his nerve at the crucial moment and the word 'romantic' had come out as little more than a whisper. So much so, that Brennan hadn't caught it.

"Very what, sorry?"

"ROMANTIC!"

Silence spread into every square inch of the car. Booth stared straight ahead out over the steering wheel. Brennan had set her sights very directly out of the passenger side window. Neither saw the rosy blush that spread across the other's cheeks and down Booth's neck.

After a few minutes of suffocating silence, Booth smacked his lips together and reached for the radio dial.

"Music. We need music."

Tom Jones' 'Sex Bomb' suddenly blared out.

Booth giggled nervously.

"Wrong station."

He tried again. This time 'Hot Stuff' filled the air.

"Nope! Wrong again."

The latest version of 'Lady Marmalade' from the film 'Moulin Rouge' thumped into their ears. Booth was about to say something, then hurriedly thought better of it and settled for silently turning the dial once more.

Eric Clapton crooned 'Wonderful Tonight' at them. For a moment Booth tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, enjoying the music. Then possible other implications of the song entered his head and he turned the radio off altogether.

"Music is overrated. Silence is…ah…golden."

Brennan offered no response other than a small, secretive smile.


	19. Chapter 19

**This one is for Kasper and mecedeme as they left me reviews. Reviews are good! They help me know if people like what I'm doing and whether I should continue. I hope people are catching the subtle hint here.**

**Once again, not mine...but I'm working on it.**

The rest of the journey was completed in silence. The two kept going to say something and then catching the other one looking at them, resulting in both blushing furiously and neither saying anything. They arrived at the restaurant not having spoken for over ten minutes.

Booth hurried out of the vehicle and went to open Brennan's door. Once again, she made no comment but simply smiled. Feeling utterly confused, Booth lifted a hand to rest in the small of her back to guide her into the restaurant.

His mind was reeling. He was on a date with Bones. A DATE. Granted, neither of them had asked the other nor had either agreed to it per se, but Booth wasn't one to dwell on the particulars. A date with Bones. All of the times he had dreamt of this… Yet, he never thought they'd actually do it. He and Bones…just didn't seem like the dating type. But maybe they did. He sighed. His poor brain was flummoxed.

"Eh, Booth?"

Booth snapped out of his trance. Blinking in confusion, he realised they were both standing stock still in the car park, about two feet away from his car.

"What's up, Bones? What are we still doing out here?"

She shot him a curious look over her shoulder.

"You tell me."

Booth shook his head in confusion. Brennan decided to help him out.

"Booth, where's your hand?"

Convinced she'd lost the plot entirely, he nodded towards his hand and dropped his eyes down to it.

"It's right there on your…"

Apparently he'd missed his intended destination. He shot his hand off her body as though scalded.

Kicking the ground at his feet, he mumbled, "Sorry, Bones."

Her shoulders slumped slightly.

"Oh. I wasn't sure if it was deliberate or…never mind."

She began marching into the restaurant. Booth trailed behind, head more addled than ever. Was that disappointment he'd heard in her voice?

By the time he reached her, she was already talking to the man in charge of the reservations.

"Yes, a table for two. The name? Em…Booth, what name was it booked under?"

Turning a fetching magenta, Booth muttered, "Booth. It was booked under Booth."

Brennan swung around to face him, incredulity written on every inch of her face.

"They booked it under your name? They just assumed you'd win? That was a bit presumptuous of them, wasn't it?"

Not really sure how to answer without sounding boastful, Booth simply nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, shut it, opened it again, shut it again, reached out a hand to touch her and then dropped it down to his side once more.

Brennan stared at him a moment longer, then turned to address the maitre d'.

"Booth. The name's Booth."

The man scrolled down the list, found the name and made some kind of an official looking mark beside it.

Booth had since moved up behind Brennan and placed a hand on her shoulder. He figured that was safer. Less chance of putting hands places where they shouldn't go.

The maitre d' returned his gaze to Brennan, smiled warmly and gestured with one arm into the main part of the restaurant.

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Booth"

Ignoring Booth's quiet little groan, Brennan reached around and tugged the maitre d's sleeve.

"Excuse me, but we're not married."

"Apologies, ma'am. You just seem so…"

Brennan's eyes narrowed.

"So what?"

"Nothing, nothing. I apologise for the assumption."

They were directed to their table in what was fast becoming familiar silence. The maitre d' stood, waiting for Brennan to sit so he could move in her chair. Booth made a quick gesture with his hand, making it quite clear he'd rather like that honour. The man stood back respectfully, but leaned in to Booth before returning to his post.

"First date jitters?"

"You have no idea."

Booth took his seat, smoothing his tie as he did so. A band was playing at the end of the room, light and sometimes jazzy pieces. Booth bobbed his head to the beat.

Brennan tried to meet his gaze but seemed to be having difficulty in doing so. He watched in astonishment and amusement as a pink glow suddenly flushed her cheeks. She promptly opened her menu, propped it up on the table and hid behind it.

"You ok back there, Bones?"

"Of course."

Booth grinned wickedly. "See anything you'd like?"

"It all looks delicious. I really don't know how to choose."

"You could start by turning the menu the right way around."

"Oh."

She laid the menu flat on the table, too embarrassed to fix it or even pretend to read it.

Booth kindly pretended not to notice as she pressed her cool hands to her reddened face and took a number of deep, calming breaths.

"So, the food looks great. I always love brie as a starter."

He flipped open her menu, turned it the right way around and pointed out what he was referring to.

She offered him a grateful smile and reached out to take the menu from him. Whatever way she did this, the tips of her fingers managed to travel up the length of his.

Both dropped the menu like it was a hot coal. It hit off Brennan's glass, sending it toppling to the floor where it smashed into a million glistening pieces on the polished wood.

The two jumped to their feet, pointing accusatorially at each other as a waiter hurried over with a sweeping brush.

"He…!"

"She…!"

The waiter smiled at them, apparently rather amused by something.

"Don't worry. Happens all the time."

A few minutes later, the pair was seated once more. Having refused alternative seating arrangements (they'd drawn enough attention to themselves as it was), they were now grinning goofily at each other from across the table, thoroughly pleased with the evening's proceedings.

A waiter decided the time was right to start taking their orders and tentatively made his way over.

"What can I get you?"

Booth wrenched his gaze from Brennan's face, an insanely wide smile spread across his features.

"What?"

Ten minutes later, Matt, the waiter, dragged himself into the kitchen and relayed their order to the kitchen staff. His voice was so deadpan and he was acting so weary that other employees felt the need to ask him what was wrong. He recalled, with painstaking attention to detail, the bickering of the two, their inability to make decisions, their constant need to interrupt each other, how when one finally decided on something, the other would make some snide comment that would put proceedings back to square one and resume the gentle arguing.

"Man, those two need to get a room."

Meanwhile, out in the restaurant, Booth and Brennan had had their choice bottle of wine delivered to the table. Booth was attempting to explain how to swirl the liquid around in the glass to test its 'body'. Brennan wasn't following at all so Booth took it upon himself to show her. Unfortunately, he was a bit too eager, and managed to splash himself in the face. Brennan thought this was the funniest thing she had ever seen and collapsed into giggles, clutching her stomach helplessly.

Booth took his revenge by flicking some of the crimson drink at her. With an outraged gasp, Brennan retaliated. A harassed looking waitress hurried over and requested that they please stop acting like children or they would be asked to leave. Sufficiently humbled, the two murmured inarticulate apologies.

The time until the food arrived was spent in comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated by superficial small talk. Once the meals were placed before them, the two energetically ate their fill, quickly sating their appetites. Every now and then one of them would exclaim rapturously about whatever it was they were eating. Whenever this happened, it was more often than not accompanied by that person feeding the other a taste of the food in question, unaware of the knowing smiles and nudges of the waiting staff strategically placed around the room.

The dinner plates were removed and desserts ordered. After much deliberation (poor Matt was now giving serious consideration to early retirement), both decided on ice cream. The partners used the waiting time to relax and listen to the band.

Both responded to their sweet tooth's demands and ate heartily once the final course arrived. Brennan finished first and angled her body towards the band, fingers tapping off the table in time to the music. Booth couldn't take his gaze off her. Her eyes were sparkling and the soft lighting was making her hair shine more than Booth had thought humanly possible. A healthy glow stained her cheeks and her mouth was curved into a small smile. She looked breathtaking…even with a dollop of ice cream over her lips.

Booth reached across the table and wiped it gently off with his fingertip. Brennan's breath hitched in her throat as he put his finger to his lips and licked it.

"Delicious."

The moment was shattered, however, when the band's lead singer announced into the microphone that this next song was for a Mr. Seeley Booth and a Dr. Temperance Brennan, courtesy of a Ms. Angela Montenegro. Choking loudly, the dedicatees turned to face the music just in time to see Matt slink away, having successfully delivered the message after countless, increasingly high-pitched, phone calls.

The opening bars of The Bangles' 'Eternal Flame' filled the room. Brennan lowered her head onto the table with a strangled cry, muttering darkly about the many different ways of killing someone and leaving behind no substantial evidence.

Booth attempted to make a joke of it. He gave a quick, somewhat unconvincing, burst of laughter and kicked back in his seat as though this was all perfectly fine and not in the least bit uncomfortable. Unfortunately, he managed to run a foot up Brennan's leg, causing her to yelp and Booth then to give a startled yell. The two hurriedly gathered up their belongings and departed, shame faced, before the second verse had even begun.

The journey home was somewhat uneventful. Neither could think of anything relevant to say other than a comment or two on the quality of the food or the intricacies of the décor. Needless to say, conversation wasn't very lengthy.

They pulled up to Brennan's apartment and Booth turned off the ignition. Brennan turned to face him, eyebrows raised and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, Booth, it was…"

"Interesting."

She nodded.

"Definitely interesting."

Booth took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. He kept it pressed to him for a number of seconds before gently releasing it.

"Never a dull moment with you, Bones."

Giving his forearm a quick squeeze, she unbuckled her belt and opened the door.

"Thanks for a lovely evening."

He leaned over towards her side as she stepped out.

"So, do you think there's any chance it could happen again?"

She cocked her head at him, lips pursed.

"I think at five grand a pop it's a bit too steep for me…even if it was completely worth it."

She closed the door and gave him a small wave through the window.

That was good enough for him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Still not mine. Unfortunately.**

**Ok, this is especially for all you peeps who are sticking with me and reading as I go along. A special mention must be made to grandma, however, as she seems to like this one so incredibly darned much. Saucy minx that she is.**

Booth glanced over at the woman sitting next to him and let out a quiet chuckle.

Brennan's body was slumped, as though she found it too wearisome to sit upright. The backs of her fingers were pressed against her eyes. As he watched, she made a rather disastrous attempt to stifle a yawn.

She was, of course, not in the least bit tired. She had repeated this to him many times over the course of the evening, so it must be true. Even if, dare he even think it, all evidence pointed to the contrary.

He had made numerous efforts to convince her otherwise, to insist that he leave her alone to get some sleep. She was having none of it. Somewhere in her twisted Brennan logic seemed to be the message that tiredness equalled weakness. So, she was definitely not tired. And never would be. Obviously.

He had absolutely, completely, one hundred percent resolved to just get up and leave, whether she liked it or not, as he hoped this would force her to go to bed. But, Brennan being Brennan, had a plan of attack up her sleeve, as though innately aware of his own. She had plied him with food. Then there was some more food. A beer. Afterwards, she had suggested take-out. He was helpless. Utterly and totally helpless. She knew him so well it was scary.

"Well, Bones…"

"I'm not tired!"

He looked so askance that she broke out into spontaneous laughter.

"Talk about being on the warpath there. I didn't say anything about tiredness. I wasn't even THINKING tiredness. In fact, nobody in this ROOM mentioned tiredness. Except you."

She couldn't help a small smile from forming. Somehow, he had managed to score a little victory there.

"Sorry. What were you going to say?"

He shook his head in disbelief.

"I have no idea. You gave me such a fright. Very confrontational altogether."

She gave him a withering look along with a not-too-gentle shove.

"Shut up. I didn't scare you."

Unable to keep up the pretence, he broke out into a grin.

"You got me. But I'm gonna go ahead and take a wild guess that if your thoughts are jumping so quickly to tiredness…it might be saying something about the way you're feeling. I think we should call it a night."

She immediately sat bolt upright, as though this proved without a doubt that she was fully awake. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, determined not to show any amusement on his face. She looked him in the eye, as though her point was irrefutably made, but didn't argue with him.

Nodding slowly, understanding that she simply couldn't admit to the perceived weakness, Booth got up and stretched.

She immediately flopped sideways, laying her head on the newly vacated seat.

His mouth twitched uncontrollably.

"Wide awake, Bones?"

She raised her eyebrows at him, jaw working furiously as she made a better attempt than the last to stifle a yawn.

"As always, Booth."

"Never doubted you. Listen, I'm just going to make a quick stop to your bathroom and then I'll be out of your hair."

His last sight of Brennan was seeing her lift up a few locks of hair and stare intently at them in utter bewilderment.

Booth found the bathroom easily, it's not like it was his first time in the apartment, and quickly took care of what he had to do. As he stood washing his hands, a sudden impulse overcame him to search for whatever it was that made her smell so…amazing. Being in such close proximity to her all night had confounded his senses and had launched a full-scale attack on his beliefs on propriety.

He began, cautiously at first, but quickly gaining momentum, opening bottles and jars and taking quick sniffs of the fragrances inside. Vanilla, lily, rose, lavender, orchid… He soon became quite light-headed, but in a thoroughly pleasant, enjoyable way. After a few minutes, he was forced to conclude that perhaps that intoxicating Brennan scent was…simply Brennan. That mixture of sweetness and strength, floral and fruity, and something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Pleased with his discovery, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

"Booth!"

Oops. He had taken an awful lot longer than he meant to. He could feel his face reddening as he cursed his lack of forward thinking. Of course she'd wonder why he had taken so long. How on earth was he going to explain it to her? _I just wanted to see what you smell like?_ He shook his head. Even to him, that sounded creepy.

Her call came again.

"Booth!"

Feeling utterly stupid, he began a half-walk, half-jog into the living room.

"Listen, Bones, I'm really sorry. I was just, well the thing is, basically…"

His jaw dropped.

Brennan was lying, quite still. Her right side was elevated and her left was pressed against the seat of the couch. Her right hand lay tangled in her hair; her left was flung over her head, the fingers suspended over the couch's edge. Her left leg was pulled against the back of the couch, while her right was stretched across the furniture's length. She was obviously asleep.

She spoke his name again, this time her voice was low. Husky. Sultry.

"Booth."

Booth's eyes goggled. _She's dreaming about me? And she's saying my name like that?!_

Brennan's hand became even more fused with her hair. She let out a chuckle. A slow, drawn out, throaty chuckle. There was only ever one context a chuckle like that was used.

A grin threatened to crack his face. His feet began moving of their own accord as they completed some form of victory, triumph demonstration across the room. His arms were raised, the fists clenched with success. He couldn't remember raising them, nor did he think he would be able to lower them.

He suddenly hit the ground in shock as a long drawn out sigh, complete with flirtatious giggle, which quickly turned into a breathy rendition of his name, escaped her lips. Prickles of heat raced across his scalp at the sound. There was really no denying it now. His bruised knees were witness to the momentous event. In direct proportion to this, his ego had swelled tenfold. Ego being…well, you get the idea.

After a further few minutes of celebration, including his march around the apartment pretending he was playing the trumpet, Booth stood in front of her, hand scratching the back of his head, wondering what he should do with her.

While he was quite confident that his dream self was virile enough to keep _her_ dream self toasty warm, her actual self was another matter entirely. Quickly dismissing the idea of life imitating…not art exactly, but perhaps dreams were a form of art, in an effort to keep her warm, he decided he should carry her into her room.

He slipped his hands, palms facing upwards, under her slender body and, when he was sure she was secure, he picked her up.

As he moved away from the couch, her hands grabbed the front of his shirt. His grin, if possible, grew wider.

_I could get used to this. Very used to this indeed._

When he reached the bedroom door, there was an unforeseen response from Brennan and he nearly dropped her. She leaned her head forward and pressed her lips against his chest. Fairly, and understandably, wobbly-legged, he entered the room and meandered over to the bed.

He was within two feet of it, when Brennan suddenly threw her head back and moaned, loud and long. This time, she slipped. Not completely out of his hands, but until she was nearly level with his hips.

He would never know if it was the jostling movement that awoke her or the volume of her delight. Either way, her eyes opened, and she stared sleepily and questionably at him.

"Booth? What's that…?"

"Rocket." It was out before she'd even finished her question.

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"What?"

Annoyed at himself, Booth shook his head and completed the few steps over to the bed.

"Nothing, Bones. Nothing. You just go back to sleep."

He lowered her gently onto the bed, pulling the blankets aside as he did. Once settled, he covered them over her once more. The movement brought their heads into extremely close proximity. Her hands still clung to his shirt. The still air was pregnant with possibility.

Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the top of the head, just below her hairline. He felt her shiver at his lingering touch. Her hands relaxed and fell away from his shirt.

"Night, Bones. Sweet dreams."

She nestled into the bed, a mischievous smile playing across her features.

"Oh, I will. If they're anything like the last, I definitely will." She looked very satisfied with herself, safe in the knowledge that he knew nothing of what had occurred in her dreamland.

Aware that he probably shouldn't, but unable to resist, he turned back to her with a twinkle in his eye.

"I have no doubt. I'm more than capable of satisfying a woman. Who knew I was your dream guy after all? Night, Bones."

He closed the door firmly on her mortified and outraged gasp.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews. They are yummy.**

**Nope, Bones still isn't mine. Believe me, I'll let you know when it is.**

"Where is she?"

The receptionist took a few extra minutes to finish what she was typing, and then looked up at him, face set like stone.

"Where is who?"

Booth tightened his jaw, embarrassed that he had failed to identify the root of his search. In his mind, everyone should know who Brennan was. Without him having to say anything, people should automatically know that Brennan was, in some way, involved. He wasn't sure why. That's just the way it should be. He allowed himself a quiet sigh before continuing.

"Excuse me. I was upset. Could you tell me where Dr. Temperance Brennan is, please? I heard she came in with some kind of leg…snap or break or I don't know."

The woman's face softened significantly as she registered the genuine concern seeping from the man's every pore. She met his gaze quickly, nodded once and ran the name through the hospital's computer system.

"Ms…ah…Dr. Brennan was examined by Dr. Martin. There are no indicators that she had to be admitted. There's a good chance she's still in Examination Room 1."

Booth began to jog down the hall at her words, following the large signs pointing to Examination Rooms 1 through 5.

"Wait, are you a relative or a husband…?"

Booth turned back to her, his face set.

"I'm her partner."

The receptionist took a split second to process this then nodded firmly.

_Lucky Dr. Brennan_

Booth skidded to a halt outside the door marked Examination Room 1. He knocked sharply twice and, without waiting for a response, pushed open the door.

Brennan was sitting lengthways on an examination bed wearing a hospital gown and a mutinous expression. Her right leg was in a cast. A middle-aged man, showing signs of premature balding, was holding a hand in front of his eyes in sheer exasperation. The tension in the room was palpable.

Brennan caught sight of her partner and her face underwent a miraculous transformation.

"Booth!"

The man, the aforementioned Dr. Martin, if his nametag was anything to go by, turned to face the door, his expression inscrutable. He wasn't sure if this Booth character would force his patient to listen to reason or would simply encourage her folly.

"Ah, so you're the famous Booth. Nice to finally see you in the flesh." His tone was dry.

Booth blinked a number of times, then moved further into the room.

"Famous? Bones, what have you been saying about me?"

She grinned impishly.

"So, doc, what's the damage?"

"Ms…"

Brennan cleared her throat loudly then looked around her innocently when both men stared at her.

"DR. Brennan has fractured her fibula."

"…fibula." Brennan repeated. She was glaring at the doctor, determined not to be upstaged by him.

Dr. Martin let out a long-suffering sigh. He gave Brennan a look, which she shrugged at. He returned his attention to Booth.

"She was lucky in that her fibula alone was all that was affected. Such injuries are congruent with a direct blow to the side of the leg."

"…direct blow to the side of the leg." Echoed Brennan, looking triumphant.

Dr. Martin ignored her. "Your partner was hit by a car in the downtown D.C. area…"

Booth glared at Brennan, forehead wrinkling. Brennan, in turn, glared at Dr. Martin. Dr. Martin decided it was safest to glare at the floor.

"What? I was out getting lunch. I thought you'd be pleased I was taking the time to eat."

Booth closed his eyes. "I would also be pleased it you didn't run out in front of cars. Have you any idea how serious…"

"Don't just assume I ran out! You didn't see it. You couldn't possibly know. How can you be sure the car didn't swerve onto the pavement where I was innocently walking?"

"Well, did it?"

"Not exactly…"

Booth growled in frustration.

"Ok, fractured tibia…"

"FIBULA." Both doctors shouted at him.

Booth looked slightly crushed. He was rather proud at having remembered the name of a leg bone. Too bad it wasn't the correct leg bone.

"Wow. Ok, fibula."

"The fibula runs parallel to the tibia, but it's the smaller of the two." Brennan gave him a know-it-all smug smile, which she then directed at the doctor, just to prove how knowledgeable she was.

"Thanks for the biology lesson, Bones. Anyway, this fractured fibula, what does that mean?"

Dr. Martin began rocking slightly on the balls of his feet.

"It's not all that serious. If she'd fractured her tibia as well or had fractured her femur, her condition would be much worse."

"Much worse." Brennan reiterated, nodding energetically.

Booth gave her a quick grin. "That's my Bones. If you're going to fracture a bone, at least you know which one to do it to."

Dr. Martin shook his head incredulously.

"Yes, well, kudos to Dr. Brennan. Anyway, all that is really required is some rest, ice to the injured area and some NSAIDs."

"Some what now?"

"Nonsteroid anti-inflammatory drugs." Brennan blurted. She then smiled very satisfactorily, pleased that she had gotten there before Dr. Martin.

Dr. Martin ignored her once again. At Booth's blank face, he supplied, "Pain relieving drugs that also reduce swelling. Like ibuprofen or Advil."

Booth nodded. "Why can't you talk more like him?" He gestured at Dr. Martin, eyes fixed on Brennan. He got a stony glare for his troubles.

Dr. Martin looked rather pleased with himself. He decided he quite liked this Booth fellow.

"Anyway, I'm having trouble convincing…eh…Dr. Brennan that she has to rest to allow the bone time to heal."

Booth turned sharply towards his partner, a hand raised to buffer any indignant retaliations.

"You're resting, Bones. No buts. No maybes. No going to the lab. Just some quiet relaxing."

Brennan's expression was murderous.

"When the fracture has healed sufficiently, Dr. Brennan will return to us for physical therapy."

Booth nodded once in acknowledgment, paying no heed to Brennan's darkening face.

"Will do, doc. No arguing." He added in Brennan's general direction.

Brennan folded her arms in front of her chest and sulked.

Dr. Martin piped up, "She'll be needing someone to check in, keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't do anything she shouldn't."

Brennan decided to take offence at this and turned her head away from the good doctor. "Too bad. Angela's away on vacation. I'll just look after myself."

"I could do it."

Brennan nearly slipped off the bed in her hurry to swing around and face him.

"No you could not. I'm not having you coming in and taking over my life."

"Who said anything about taking over? I'll just be keeping an eye on you…your legs in particular. Sounds great to me!"

Dr. Martin cleared his throat before clarifying, "You won't have to watch her 24/7. Just make sure she keeps the weight off her leg. Help her to do some of the things she'll have trouble with. Check the leg for any localized swelling or tenderness."

Brennan spluttered.

"You are not touching my leg."

"Watch me, Bones."

Before she had time to react, he had crossed the short distance that separated them and ran a hand up her uninjured leg to her knee. Brennan blushed furiously and shivered slightly at the intimate contact.

"Silky smooth, Bones. Very nice."

"Yeah, well…" Annoyed that he had flustered her to the point where fragmented words were her only retort, Brennan directed her gaze at her hands.

"Great. Then it's settled. Looks like you've got a new house guest, Bones."

"An unwelcome house guest."

Dr. Martin interjected, "That really isn't necessary. You could just drop in at regular intervals…"

Booth's pleading look cut him off.

"I want to. I want to take care of her properly."

He forced Brennan to meet his gaze.

"Please?"

Brennan sighed impatiently, making it clear she wasn't happy.

"Fine."

Smirking to himself, Booth looked at Dr. Martin.

"So, is she good to go?"

The male doctor glanced briefly at his patient before nodding.

"Fractured fibulas rarely require hospitalisation. I'll give Dr. Brennan a set of crutches to help her to move around…and then she's all yours."

Brennan interjected from behind them.

"Excuse you, I am not property. Ownership does not pass…"

"She's all mine. Got it."


	22. Chapter 22

**Apologies once again for the massive delay between updates. Internet and I are not getting along well at all. Some objects were thrown, some things were said...and, well, the situation escalated. I'll keep you posted.**

**Once again, thank you so much for the reviews. They keep me going! And Bones is still not mine. Unfortunately.**

He could do this. No big deal really. Somewhere he would find the courage to finally cross the threshold into the brightly lit pharmacy and complete the errand Brennan had set him. A lot easier said than done.

Breathe. That's all he really had to remember. Just breathe.

It had been far easier running into the local newsagent and picking up her favourite magazines. With titles like 'Modern Scientist' and 'Forensic Anthropology Today', Booth had walked up to the cash register with a bit of a swagger, relishing the approving looks thrown his way when people caught sight of the impressive sounding subscriptions.

Which had all come to pieces slightly when some guy had practically skipped up to him, face shining with excitement, and had asked this really complicated, in-depth question about something Booth couldn't even pronounce, and his retort had been, simply, "Yeah. That's the one." Not counting that little incident, the experience had been extremely ego boosting.

This, however…this was different. And not in a good way.

Reminding himself of the band-aid analogy (rip it off quickly and the pain doesn't last as long), he gathered up all his fortitude, puffed out his chest and half-ran, half-fell into the pharmacy.

Good. At least he was now inside. All he had to do was… Oh God. He wanted to die. This was just so humiliating.

Ducking low, he quickly moved down the aisle nearest him. Toothpaste, floss and toothbrushes filled the tightly packed shelves. He had absolutely no idea where to find the items Brennan was looking for. Giving himself a quick mental shake, he straightened up. He could do this. He had been an army ranger for crying out loud. A simple trip to the local pharmacy for his invalid partner shouldn't floor him like this.

He gave a sigh of relief when he found the shampoo aisle. This would be a snap. He didn't even need to consult the list she'd given him. He already knew, thanks to previous snooping in her bathroom, what shampoo she used.

However, when he reached out to pick up the pastel coloured container, he couldn't help remarking to the girl next to him, "This is for my partner. She's a woman." The teenager stared back at him, pierced tongue visible through her open mouth.

"Dude, I don't care."

"Yeah, well, just thought you should know. Just in case you thought I used this stuff. Which I don't. Not that I don't use shampoo. I do. I just use…"

The girl stalked off.

Pleased with himself, Booth began humming as he went in search of the make-up stands. This was easy. What had he been so scared about?

He found the appropriate section very quickly. It was heavily advertised and densely populated. He gave his list a quick consultation before diving into the throng.

He ended up having a, somewhat brief, wrestling match with a spry redhead for the last 'Arabian Amber' lipstick and a fifteen minute conversation with a middle aged housewife about the benefits of good foundation. She'd even volunteered some tips about his own cleansing regime and had given him the name of a fantastic cream to eradicate large pores, which they both agreed were a nightmare to get rid of and extremely unsightly.

Strutting slightly with success, Booth consulted the list again. Razors. Hmm. He ducked in and out of aisles for a number of minutes before stumbling across the correct one. His jaw dropped in astonishment. So many different brands of razors. And so many different types. Some boasting long lasting effects, others that they were suitable for use on sensitive skin. A few claimed they could be used in a multi-directional manner (this caused an impromptu giggling fit, for some inexplicable reason). A couple of the battery operated ones advertised that they were perfect for use in the shower. What good would they be otherwise?

He was determined not to call Brennan. He could figure this out on his own. The only question that really needed to be answered was…he had no clue. How on earth was he going to figure this out? A woman came across him five minutes later, lost in nervous, frantic giggling. Taking pity on the wretched creature, she decided to offer a hand. She almost regretted it when he spent the next minute and a half reassuring her that they weren't for his use, even though she'd indicating nothing to the contrary.

After his third repetition of "I'm a man. I use men's razors." she exploded at him, "Yes, dearie, I've noticed you're a man. I don't need you to tell me. You also don't need to tell every single person who walks past that you're shopping for your partner, who is in fact, a woman. I get it. The whole D.C. area probably gets it. That poor woman that you followed down the aisle, just in case she didn't catch what you said, DEFINITELY gets it."

Booth blushed and nodded in agreement. The woman began asking questions about Brennan's skin type. She couldn't help but notice Booth's undertone mantra of "I'm a man. These are for my partner. I use men's razors." almost as though he just wanted to reassure himself of the fact.

Finally, the two had picked out a suitable one. The woman left Booth frantically turning his head from the package in his right hand to the package in his left, desperately trying to choose between pink and purple. It took a while.

He decided to pick up a shaving cream as well. It hadn't been on Brennan's list, but he figured it would look very professional and thoughtful. As though this whole excursion had been a walk in the park that he'd simply breezed through. Forgoing another twenty-minute decision, he decided to pick the one that had packaging most similar in colour to the shampoo. Ridiculously pleased with his ingenuity, he consulted the hand-written list once more.

His face paled. That last item. The one he'd avoided looking at since the paper had been shoved in his hand. The one he had nearly had an aneurysm over when he first read it and had run, squeaking, from Brennan's presence. She, of course, thought that his reaction was incredibly amusing.

Continuously clearing his throat, he approached a girl wearing a dark uniform, the pharmacy's name emblazoned across the back. He decided to avoid a tentative search around the shop looking for the appropriate aisle and simply bite the bullet and ask someone straight out. It didn't quite work out like that.

"Excuse me, where's the ladies' aisle?"

The girl stared at him. Who could blame her really when Booth had spoken through a hand clamped over his mouth, terrified that someone would hear what he was asking for.

"What?"

"The…" he lowered his hand, but darted his eyes in a very paranoid way from side to side, "the special section for the ladies. You know the one." His voice cracked slightly.

"Oh! You mean the sanitary…"

Booth practically rugby tackled her.

"Shh!" He began waving his arms frantically, bug-eyed.

He gestured wildly down both directions of the aisle.

"People!"

The girl looked slowly down the aisle. A toddler and her mother were at one end, about fifteen feet down. She turned her head in the other direction.

That was it.

Booth was visibly twitching.

The girl seemed to fighting a losing battle against a broad smile. He decided he should explain.

"Not for me, now. See, I'm shopping for my part…"

The girl gave out a quick bray of laughter and caught his arm.

"You! I've heard about you! The shopping for his partner guy!"

Booth blinked. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. If news of his excursion had travelled around the pharmacy, did that mean he has behaving ridiculously? Surely not. Any guy in his position would have done the same.

The girl escorted him personally over to the specific section. She also managed to quickly and quietly pick out the necessary items, albeit with a number of low, wailing noises from Booth.

Four minutes later, Booth staggered out of the shop, two shopping bags clutched in his hands. He made his way haphazardly over to his car. When he was halfway there, Brennan rang, wondering why it had taken him an hour and a half to complete the messages. He practically sobbed down the phone at her.

Brennan spent two minutes consoling him and promising that she'd never ask him to do anything like that ever again. He made her repeat the promise a number of times. Every now and again, a high-pitched keening noise would escape him when he remembered his little adventure. When she finally hung up the phone, she was exhausted. She settled herself back on the couch, adjusting the pillow that was propping up her leg. Within moments, she was helpless with belly-rumbling laughter.

_God. Men were such women._


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks once again for the reviews, guys. They keep me going!**

**Bones is not mine. Not even an eency, weency bit.**

Booth finally made it back to Brennan's apartment, sniffling most of the way.

Brennan spent the majority of the time that he shuffled around the apartment, putting the items away, biting down furiously on the inside of her cheek. She was finding it difficult to even look at her traumatised partner. When, after twenty seconds of hopping frantically around in a circle and eventually firing the final item, still concealed in it's bag, into Brennan's room, a quick snort of laughter escaped her. As soon as Booth turned his enlarged eyes on her, the snort rapidly turned into a rather unconvincing cough.

"Thanks Booth."

The poor man looked exhausted. He collapsed onto the couch beside her, breathing heavily. As much as she wanted to ridicule him to within an inch of his life over how childishly he was acting, this intensity of wanting was matched, even surpassed, by the need to keep concealed how much she actually needed him. What was even more uncomfortable to admit, and something that her subconscious kept probing at deep into the darkest hours of the night, was how this need did not stem from her simply being injured. Definitely not a sensible thought to be dwelling on.

After a few minutes of allowing him to wallow in his misery, Brennan tentatively poked him in the ribs.

"Come on, Booth. You made me wait until you got home before I could have my shower. The least you could do is help me to start the process."

Booth shot up.

"The least? The LEAST?! I've just…and then…followed by…oh God…that was just so…"

He curled up into a ball, moaning fitfully.

Giving him a playful smack on the backside, Brennan shifted herself into a standing position.

Booth snapped to attention, eager to help and revived somewhat by her kidding around.

He sloped off to the bathroom, mumbling something about her owing him big time. Brennan sighed. She really would have to find some kind of gesture to show how much she appreciated his help. She'd worry about that later.

She hopped along to the bathroom herself. Booth had already set up two towels as close to the bath as possible: Brennan's shower was positioned over the bathtub. Booth was moving the floor mat into what he felt was the most useful position. He then reached up and switched the shower on. As the first drops of water echoed off the plain white tiles, he turned to her with a grin.

"All done. You won't even have to lift a finger."

She smiled gratefully and squeezed his bicep gently in appreciation.

"Could you put the plug in?"

He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"I thought you were having a shower?"

"I am…but…maybe…just maybe if I find that too difficult, I could just sit down and have some semblance of a bath. It might…it might be easier to keep my leg elevated from a sitting position. But I probably won't need to anyway."

Knowing from experience that it was wisest to simply say nothing, Booth silently did what she requested. When he was finished, he turned to her once more.

"So, if you wanna get…ah…undressed (the pitch of his voice increased dramatically), I can come back in when you're done and just sit on the toilet…" He gestured towards the ceramic toilet, lid down.

Brennan spluttered.

"What? No! When you said earlier that you'd sit nearby, I thought you meant sit…nearby. Not right on top of me! You can just sit outside. What if I fell…?"

Booth looked exasperated.

"All the more reason for me to…"

"No, I meant, what if I fell and you SAW…you know…things…"

Booth shot her his best charm smile.

"Can I remind you that you're trying to get me to leave…not encouraging me to stay?"

Brennan growled. He must have been practising that smile. It was taking all of her willpower not to invite him to join her.

"Booth, you can just sit outside. I'll keep the door unlocked so if something goes wrong…" She made a door opening motion with her hand.

Looking quite disappointed, Booth nodded curtly and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He waited a couple of seconds to make sure she didn't turn the key in the lock, then looked around the apartment for something to do.

He decided he could try and tackle some of her laundry. He dragged the basket over to her couch, well within earshot of the bathroom. Feeling slightly nervous, he peered inside.

What reason did he have to feel guilty? He was only a friend helping out another friend, after all. This was a perfectly innocent gesture. So why did it feel…well, naughty?

He gave himself a brief mental talking to, and then dipped his hands into the basket. He placed the resulting articles beside him on the seat. He sorted the two pairs of trousers and four different types of tops into 'dark' and 'light' piles. He let out the breath he hadn't even realised he was holding. This was fine. This was perfectly normal. Encouraged, he reached his hands in again.

This time he came up with the items he had secretly been hoping to find all along. Brennan's underwear. He had already seen the type of underwear she wore for…special occasions, but this…this felt more personal somehow. More intimate. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this was what she was daily hiding under her clothes. Things nobody ever got to see. Except her. And now, him.

Feeling himself grow warm at this new, unforseen connection between himself and his partner, he set about sorting these particular items of clothing into their respective piles. He handled them gently, respectfully, trying his utmost not to imagine Brennan wearing them.

A sudden shout split the air.

Booth jumped up, scattering underwear everywhere. He raced over to the bathroom and began hammering on the door.

"Bones? Bones? Are you ok? Bones, I'm coming in."

He gently eased the door open and poked his head inside. Steam momentarily obscured his vision. Once his eyes had adjusted, he focused his gaze on the shower curtain that hid Brennan from view.

"Bones?"

He heard a heavy sigh.

"Sorry, Booth. I'm fine. I just…I was trying to wash my back, which is harder than it sounds when you're trying to keep one leg out of the water, and I just lost my balance. Don't really know how."

Booth smiled to himself.

"Sounds hard enough, Bones. You ok?"

"I'm fine, really."

"You wanna try that sitting down idea?"

"I guess."

Booth quickly suppressed a grin, knowing how difficult it was for her to admit defeat.

He heard a splash as she eased herself into the water.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm…I don't know where my sponge is."

Trying desperately to fight his anticipation, Booth moved closer to the shower curtain.

"Look, Bones, why don't I just wash your back for you? I won't look, I promise. I can do that a lot easier than you can…and you…you can work on keeping your cast out of the water."

Silence greeted him.

"Bones?"

"Ok, Booth. I…that was more tiring than I thought it would be. And this cast is pretty heavy."

Incredulous at the lack of argument, Booth settled himself on the bathtub's edge. Slowly, visibly trembling, he reached a hand around the curtain that separated the two.

"Where's the sponge, Bones?"

"Here. I found it."

She passed a warm, wet, ball of material into his hand. He could tell from the angle with which she did this, even without seeing, that she had her back to him. Unbeknownst to the other, each shivered slightly at the contact.

Booth was so nervous he managed to drop the sponge straight into the water.

"Aw sh…sorry, Bones. Hang on…"

He plunged a hand into the still warm liquid and swirled it around, searching blindly for the escaped sponge. After a number of seconds, during which time Booth got redder and redder at his apparent ineptitude, and Brennan let out one surprised yelp when his fingers made contact with somewhere unexpected and rather delicate to the touch, Booth held the sponge in his hand once more.

He reached his other hand around the curtain and squeezed some of the water out of the sopping material. He returned this hand back from behind the divide, an enticing, sophisticated scent accompanying this gesture.

He gently moved the sponge until it made contact with her skin. Both let out quiet gasps at the touch. Gaining confidence, Booth began to swirl the material across the smooth surface of her back.

Time seemed to freeze. Neither spoke. Neither seemed to breathe either.

After about two minutes, Brennan offered, "You know, Booth, there's a top section to my back as well."

Booth started, nearly dropping the sponge again. He moved it further north.

"I was just being thorough." he muttered sulkily, not really sure if this was for her ears or his own.

Brennan smiled secretly and straightened her back, relishing the feeling of the material travelling over her skin. Booth. She couldn't believe that Booth was technically washing her. If Angela could see this… She let her head fall back.

"Are you cold, Bones?" Concern was evident in his voice. He'd felt her shudder violently.

"Em, yeah. Probably time we stopped…eh, I mean, I got out."

He nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him. He dropped the sponge gently into the water and moved his hand out from behind the curtain. His fingers brushed off her skin as he did. He honestly couldn't tell if this had been a deliberate move on his part or if it was purely accidental. Either way, he could feel her burning up.

He stood up slowly, afraid any sudden movements would cause the memory of the last few minutes to fragment and scatter across the room, lost forever. He really didn't want to forget it.

"You alright, Bones?"

He heard the sounds of falling water as she stood up and an affirmative grunt from Brennan.

He handed the towels in to her. She took them off him wordlessly, then closed a hand briefly over his and gave it a quick squeeze.

"You're welcome, Bones."

He moved towards the door. He couldn't stop staring at the shiny spot on his hand where her wet skin had touched his. Before he left, he clarified, "You definitely paid me back, Bones. In fact, how about every time you owe me something, we just settle it this way?"

He quickly shut the door before she had a chance to protest. He never heard her spontaneous, quiet, even delighted, giggling.


	24. Chapter 24

**Thanks once again for reviewing. This one is just a bit of food frolics. Who doesn't love pancakes?!**

**Bones is not mine. Believe me, I've checked.**

"Come on, Bones! Pancakes!"

Booth turned to his partner, an impossibly wide grin stretched across his face as he desperately tried to balance a rather large mixing bowl containing a number of different ingredients.

Brennan gave him a blank stare.

Booth returned to the task of placing his items on her kitchen counter. Once he was finished, he set about warming her to the idea.

"It'll be fun. They have to be eaten today. Everybody has to eat them today. It's a rule."

She raised an eyebrow in response.

"It is not a rule, Booth. This day means nothing to me. I'm not foolishly denying myself anything for the next forty days, so pancakes hold no real interest for me."

Booth frowned.

"Aw, come on. Just this once, be…normal. Absolutely everyone has pancakes on Pancake Tuesday…or Shrove Tuesday, or whatever."

The lines in her forehead deepened.

"No, not everyone has pancakes today. Besides, it's a ridiculous tradition that is now incredibly outdated. The pancake was originally eaten on this day because fat, butter and eggs were forbidden during Lent. Now, nobody gives up these things, but everyone insists on gorging themselves on pancakes anyway."

Booth muttered something about being a killjoy.

"I'm right, Booth, and you know it. Are you giving up any of those things?"

Booth was suddenly extremely interested in unpacking his ingredients.

"Now, let's see what we've got here…flour, oh, we'll need lots of that and…eggs…"

He attempted to lighten the mood by taking a number of eggs out of their container and juggling them. Brennan's face remained set.

"Wow. Tough crowd. Ok, then…well, we have some butter and ooh, there's some milk and, best part, the maple syrup."

He held the syrup bottle flat in the upturned palm of his right hand while his left hand made a sweeping gesture behind it, as one might expect on a TV commercial.

In spite of her determination to remain indifferent, Brennan felt the side of her mouth being tugged sharply upwards.

Booth pointed at her, his smile back and the skin around his eyes crinkling in delight.

"Got you! Ok, now let's get to work."

Reluctantly, Brennan moved toward him. More truthfully, Brennan appeared to move toward him in a reluctant manner, when really she was rather pleased at the prospect of spending the afternoon baking with her partner. But who really cared about the truth anyway?

Booth lined up all of the ingredients on her counter. With that done, he pulled the final item from the bottom of the mixing bowl. A chef's hat. Giving her a quick wink, he pulled the hat onto his head. Brennan couldn't help but giggle as he spent the next two minutes trying to get the hat to sit perfectly straight.

When he was finally finished, she leaned over and pushed the hat over so that it rested on his head at a slight angle. He was all set to let out an exasperated roar when she gave the front of the hat a little pat (she was too small to reach the top) and said, "It looks good like that."

Who was he to argue? She was the genius after all. And what the genius wanted, the genius got.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"How good?"

She let out a nervous laugh and gave him a gentle push. The kitchen seemed to have drastically shrunk in the last few seconds.

"Let's get started, Booth."

He nodded and began to pull his jacket off.

Brennan's eyes grew to twice their normal size.

He looked at her in astonishment.

"What?"

"You're not doing that Naked Chef thing, are you?"

There was a beat of silence before Booth let out a number of brief guffaws.

"No! Why would you think…that's so…why, do you want me to?"

His eyebrows wiggled again and his smile became dangerous.

"No, no. Clothing is fine. Clothing is good. In this kitchen," she pointed downward, "clothing is mandatory."

Booth's face fell. He placed his jacked on one of the vacant counter, muttering encouragingly to himself that it wasn't personal; she wasn't being specific to him.

Brennan herself was wondering how many other rules she would have to come up with on the spur of the moment during the course of this little exercise.

Twenty minutes later, Booth was sitting sulkily on one of the farther counters, his hat balancing precariously off his ear. They had both learned that there was, apparently, no egg football, no drawing faces on the eggs, no flour fights, no trying to get the mixing spoon to float in the beaten eggs, no flour snowstorms, no milk waterfalls, no egg races and no Booth stirring the mixture (more seemed to go on the walls and, somehow, in his partner's hair than actually stay in the bowl) in Brennan's kitchen. Who knew?

Brennan was happily beating the mixture and humming absently to herself. She turned proudly to Booth, extremely satisfied with what she'd managed to accomplish.

Once he caught sight of her face, all of his annoyance instantly dissipated. Her eyes were shining, her skin was glowing and there was a light brushing of flour across her right cheek. His breath was catching in his throat just looking at her.

"Gorgeous, Bones."

She met his gaze curiously. He clarified his statement by nodding at the mixing bowl. Both turned their attention to the plastic bowl, oblivious to the other's disappointed face.

Booth cleared his throat and noisily went in search of a frying pan. Triumphant, he placed it on the heated and gestured to Brennan to join him with her mixture. She handed it to him somewhat reluctantly. He poured enough of the batter into the pan to thinly cover the bottom.

Once the mixture started to solidify, he started to show Brennan how to flip the pancakes. After observing him a number of times, she had a go at it herself. She was absolutely and completely hopeless.

Careful to hide his giggles (she had a mean right hook), he enclosed one of his hands around her slim wrist. For the next few minutes, in complete silence, he guided her through the flipping process. Occasionally Brennan let out a little gasp and Booth gave an approving grunt, but for the most part the two were quiet, savouring the experience. Both were desperately trying to ignore the way Booth's body was pressed against Brennan's back and the intense heat that was radiating from where Booth's fingers touched her skin.

Neither seemed to want to hurry the process and, so, ten minutes later there was a sufficient number of pancakes to be divided and shared between them, the earlier ones having been kept warm in the oven.

Brennan wiggled out from in front of Booth and collected two plates and two sets of cutlery to carry out to the table. Grinning to himself over something, Booth carried out the plate of steaming, fragrant pancakes in one hand, the bottle of syrup clutched tightly in the other.

The two settled themselves at the table, stealing glances at the other when they felt they weren't paying attention.

Booth looked down appreciatively at the plateful of pancakes Brennan had served him. Without tilting his head upwards he looked at her through his lashes and said softly, "Bonne appetite."

Brennan nodded, placing a hand over her stomach, frantically trying to quieten the butterflies that had taken up residence there and apparently gotten drunk and disorderly.

The partners tucked into the pancakes. Little was spoken between them, save a rapturous exclamation every thirty seconds or so.

Booth made the mistake of staring at his partner as she closed her eyes in enjoyment and licked stray flecks of syrup from around her mouth. His forkful of pancake missed its intended destination entirely and tumbled down onto his shirt.

He jumped and hissed in annoyance, causing Brennan to snap her eyes open and give a little jump herself. Booth gave another little hiss as he removed the offending article of food and discovered a substantial syrup stain left behind.

"It's your own fault, Booth."

"How is it my fault?" _Did she know what had distracted him?_

"If you hadn't insisted on covering every little bit that went into your mouth with about six pounds of syrup…"

"It was not six pounds…"

"It was close to it."

Desperate to wipe the smug smile off her face, Booth fired a little piece of pancake at her using his fork. The widened eyes and little 'o' of her mouth made it so incredibly worth it. He almost wished he hadn't been a gentleman and aimed for her plate…it would have been more fun to launch it at her head.

Brennan didn't share his thoughts on politeness. Before Booth could realise what she was doing, she'd snatched the syrup bottle off the table and had squirted quite a lot of it onto his shirt.

Booth jumped to his feet.

"Bones!"

She looked at him innocently.

"You started it, Booth."

"I didn't aim for your…"

She shrugged before he had a chance to finish his sentence.

"Hand must have slipped."

"Yeah, right."

Brennan's response died a rather speedy death when her partner began to unbutton his shirt. Grumbling incoherently, Booth nimbly undid all the buttons and shrugged the fabric off his shoulders.

The butterflies started hyperventilating at the sight of his toned stomach, defined chest, broad shoulders and overall fit, tanned physique. Brennan herself wasn't doing much better.

Seemingly unaware that his partner was in danger of a heart attack, Booth began to move towards the bathroom. Of course, Seeley Booth was rarely completely unaware of anything, especially things concerning people's responses to various situations, so he wasn't entirely surprised, but was careful to hide the resulting smile, when he heard Brennan shout after him.

"You know, I think I might be warming to this Naked Chef idea."


	25. Chapter 25

**Ok, it's actually disgusting how long it's taken me to update...but I haven't been able to get into this site at ALL. Lousy, stinking, stupid, internet.**

**Bones is definitely not mine. I checked. Then I cried and had other people check too. Definitely not, apparently.**

**So, on with the show...**

Poor Brennan was completely addled. She stood poker stiff beside the table, her plate and utensils abandoned and forgotten beside her. She couldn't hear herself breathing but that may have had something to do with the pulse that was pounding in her ears. Even though she was deaf to it, she was certain her frantic inhaling and exhaling could be heard from outside the very walls of the apartment. She could feel herself panting. The sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Booth suddenly reappeared, still shirtless. Brennan became even deafer as the banging in her ears increased. She could actually feel her chest rising and falling with such rapidity she was surprised she hadn't fainted from oxygen deprivation.

It took a moment for her to realise that Booth was speaking to her. She gave her head a quick shake, desperately trying to regain the malfunctioning one of five senses.

When she looked at Booth once more, eyes slightly squinted so as not to become overly distracted, she was met with a rather self-satisfied smirk.

"Did you hear me, Bones?"

"Huh?"

His smile stretched further.

Brennan shook her head furiously, desperately trying to fix her hearing and, if possible, dislodge the inappropriate thoughts currently blossoming in her brain.

"I…sorry, Booth. I was just thinking about work…work…and I got completely distracted. What did you say?"

Booth appeared to be sucking on the corners of his mouth in an effort not to show any amusement. Brennan's eyes narrowed.

He knew! He absolutely one hundred percent knew! Infuriating man. Infuriating, frustrating, annoying man with his cocky smile, arrogant glance, perfect body…no! Infuriating man.

"I was _saying_ that your little game managed to…eh…seep down through the shirt and, well, frankly, there's syrup everywhere." He slowly gave his chest a little wipe, nose wrinkled in disgust at the texture but his eyes were fixed on her own.

Brennan could feel her jaw slack against her feet but could do nothing about it.

"I was wondering if I could use your shower?"

Brennan nodded in a very offhand way and attempted to lean her hand on the table to complete the display of nonchalance. Unfortunately, the poor anthropologist was so flustered she missed the table by a long shot and almost knocked herself over.

Cheeks colouring instantly, she hesitantly glanced up.

Booth was looking down at her with one eyebrow raised, a very smug expression dominating his features.

"You ok, Bones? A bit distracted?"

By this stage Brennan's eyes were so tightly squeezed into a glare that she couldn't really see Booth at all. She directed her furious gaze in what she hoped was his general direction and shook her head energetically.

"No, Booth, I'm perfectly fine. You just wait here a second and I'll get you set up for that shower."

She had to open her eyes a bit in order to cross the room. This caused Booth's form to suddenly swim into view. He looked slightly disappointed at her refusal to admit to even the slightest distraction she might be feeling over his semi-naked state. He quickly recovered, however, the confident smile returning almost instantaneously.

He somehow forced her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, dangerous and alive with amusement…and something else. Something Brennan really couldn't handle right now. His stance was relaxed, his strong arms hanging loosely by his sides, framing his torso. He seemed to be challenging her into dropping her gaze. Brennan responded by keeping her eye-level somewhat higher than normal, her chin nearly pointing to the ceiling in an effort not to be tempted into permitting herself a quick glance at his exposed skin.

She shuffled out of the door backwards, determined not to be the one to break the intense stare. When the connection was finally severed, she almost tripped with relief.

Behind her, she could hear the quiet chuckles of her partner. This caused her shoulders to square almost involuntarily. She'd show him. She wasn't sure how but she would definitely show him.

She collected some towels from the appropriate cupboard and brought them into her bathroom. Her brain was in overdrive trying to come up with a suitable retribution. She could hear herself muttering aloud with the effort.

Frustrated that there had been no burst of inspiration, she turned to exit the room with a little growl. Her eyes fell on the door handle. Then on the key sitting in the lock. Inspiration suddenly struck like a bolt. She grinned wickedly.

Moments later, she returned to Booth. The squinty-eyed expression had returned and she stumbled into the room, arms stretched out ahead of her so as not to bump into anything. She wasn't sure if she'd just misjudged his position or if he had deliberately moved but, either way, her fingers connected with something smooth, solid and very warm.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked in astonishment at her hands pressed against Booth's chest. It took a few seconds for the reality of the situation to process in her brain. Another couple of seconds were needed before she was actually willing to jump back and away from him.

"Um…um…"

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you, Bones?"

Infuriated, Brennan gave him a disgusted push. His blinding grin widened as he gestured down towards her hands, which had apparently forgotten to pull away after the little push and were currently melded onto his bare skin.

Brennan grunted and reluctantly slapped her hands down against her thighs.

"Bathroom's all ready for you. I should tell you, though, the key's gone."

Booth's smile faltered.

"It snapped last week. Had to throw out the parts I could remove. I have to get it fixed…but, what with living on my own, it didn't seem like such a huge priority."

She turned an innocent look onto Booth's suddenly pale face.

"Ah…ok, then. Em, well, I'll just go and…and…you're not going to come in, are you?"

Brennan gave him a disgusted look.

"I think I can control myself."

She took hold of his bicep and guided him into the bathroom. She did a pretty good job of ignoring the sparks leaping between their bodies, particularly the area where their skin connected.

"Look," she pointed to the towels, "there's your towels and I suppose you could just put your clothes on the floor or something. I'll be outside when you're done."

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and headed out. She shut the door to the sound of her partner's little moan.

Brennan stood quietly outside of the door, body racked with silent giggles as she listened to Booth frantically hopping about the bathroom. She was so incredibly immobile she could hear him, eventually, tentatively shedding the remaining items of clothing. The shower was turned on to a very low power. A number of seconds passed and the power was increased slightly. She was nearly buckled with muted laughter. He didn't trust her. He had good reason.

It nearly killed her to wait for a few minutes before making her move. Agonising seconds crawled past as Brennan stood with her ear pressed against the door. Finally, she felt the time was right to set her plan in motion.

Her hand nearly slipped off the door handle when she reached for it. Taking a steadying breath, she managed to firmly grasp the handle and push the door open. She could feel muscles she wasn't even aware she had tensed relax suddenly when no indignant shout accompanied her intrusion.

Gaining confidence with each shout-free moment, Brennan crossed the room, adopting a rather exaggerated tiptoe movement to aid her stealth ness. The steam that covered the room was heavy and sleep inducing but it did little to obscure the neat pile of towels Brennan had placed near the shower. She snatched these hurriedly then spun around to search for Booth's clothes. He was definitely not as neat as her.

After a few minutes of scrambling around on the floor gathering up her partner's discarded clothing, she sprinted out of the bathroom. Brennan shut the door quietly and skipped delightedly into the living room to dump the clothes and towels onto the couch. She then returned to her post outside the bathroom door.

A further thirty seconds passed before she heard the thrum of the shower water cease. Unconsciously, she held her breath. She heard Booth let out a quick sigh, winding down from the shower's warmth. There was silence. Then the tinny sound of the shower curtain being opened as the metal rings slid down the pole. More silence. An incredulous snort. Then a furious roar of, "BONES!!"

Brennan gave herself a few seconds before responding.

"Booth? Are you ok?"

There was another snort from behind the door.

"I'd be doing a lot better if you'd left me my clothes."

"Your clothes? Your clothes aren't there?"

She heard a little yelp as he slid across the floor towards the door. There was a small thump as he slammed into the wood.

"You know perfectly well my clothes aren't here. You snuck in and took them. You little stealing, clothes taking, thief person."

Brennan was unable to respond for a couple of seconds. Eventually, she managed to gasp, "Maybe I did and maybe I didn't. Guess you'll just have to come out and see, won't you?"

There was a growl behind the door. Followed quickly by a high-pitched whine.

"Bo-ones! Come on! You got me back. I'm sorry I was making fun of you. Please, please, please give me my clothes back."

Her resolve was unwavering.

"Sorry, Booth. Maybe this will make you think twice before you tease me again."

There was a silence followed by the determined slap of his feet across the floor.

Reading his mind, she shouted, "You even think about ripping off my shower curtain and I'll make sure Zach is the forensic anthropologist you have to deal with for the next few cases."

A pitiful cry accompanied this statement.

"Bo-ones!"

"Sorry, but you have to be taught. I'll be outside with your clothes when you're ready to stop sulking."

Knowing he wouldn't come out immediately, Brennan took a few moments to dance across into the living room and gather all of the previously deposited items into her arms, along with a new item. She dropped them and set up the final crucial element of her revenge. This finished, she settled herself on the floor in front of the wall farthest from the bathroom door. As she waited, she began folding his clothes.

The pathetic moans and whines coming from the bathroom eventually died down. Presently, she heard the door open. Making a very conscious effort to keep her eyes on the task at hand, she kept her head lowered. Even though she refused to look at him, she could make out a figure moving towards her in her peripheral vision, but no details were obvious.

The figure finally halted before her. Willing her cheeks to resist the impulse to imitate a particularly ripe strawberry, Brennan finally lifted her head. Booth stood before her, a glower etched into his features. His hair was darker than usual with moisture and was slicked back, no doubt the result of frantic fingers running through it as he tried to get out of his current situation.

Her gaze leisurely travelled downwards from his face. Drops of water glistened on his skin. His stomach and chest muscles were tense. Finally her gaze rested on the area below his midriff.

Booth held a blue flannel tightly against the crucial area. His hands seemed to be attempting to pull it in all four directions simultaneously in an effort to make the material larger. It just covered what it had to but, understandably, the F.B.I. agent was uncomfortable with showing this much skin.

Brennan held his gaze defiantly for a number of seconds before holding out the towels and clothes to him. His eyes widened in relief, then widened further in horror as he tried to comprehend how he could snatch them off her without her seeing anything. His feet began an anxious little jig. His hand suddenly darted out and he pulled the items against himself. He slapped off Brennan's hand, which was currently wedged against his thigh, and, with as much dignity as he could muster, this time he was the one who shuffled backwards to the door.

When he was safe in the bathroom, he shot another 'stealing stealer' comment before shutting the door hurriedly before she could retaliate.

Brennan shifted into a more comfortable against the wall. She felt no desire to rebuke him. In her opinion, she had well and truly gotten him back.

Especially as there was a video camera she had discreetly placed in the side of the room, taping the entire incident.


	26. Chapter 26

**Yep, so Bones isn't mine. On we go...**

"Come on, Bones. It'll be fun."

Taking a firm grip of Brennan's upper arm, Booth guided her through a set of glass double doors. This wasn't easy as she kept wriggling and whinging the whole time. Not that the whinging made it difficult to move her…it was just so darned annoying to listen to.

"You agreed to come."

"I didn't agree to come quietly."

As soon as they were through the entrance, Brennan planted her feet solidly on the ground and refused to be propelled forwards any further. Booth let out an impatient sigh and shoved his shoulder into her back, desperate to get her moving. He managed to get her to take a step or two forward, but that's as good as it got. Poor Booth was nearly horizontal, so great were his efforts. He could feel himself getting weaker and his shoulder was slipping further and further down her back.

Eventually, it grazed off her behind. Brennan suddenly let out a frightened yelp and shot forward about ten feet. Booth's delight was quickly dissipated when his body realised his support had vanished and he rapidly toppled to the floor.

This seemed to please Brennan. When he righted himself and began brushing off his clothes, she appeared more cheerful than she'd been during the whole car journey over. She offered him a smile, complete with dimples, and even attempted to join him in the dusting of his clothes. She gave his trouser leg a final brush before looking up at him, eyes dancing, and commented, "Can't take you anywhere."

Slightly worried that his partner seemed happiest when he was in pain and had just been mortified, Booth gruffly muttered a thanks and moved towards the desk in the middle of the large room.

He gave the brunette girl sitting behind the desk his best charm smile, complete with his name. The girl literally swooned. Booth realised, with no small amount of astonishment, that Brennan was physically bristling behind him.

She used an unnecessary amount of elbows, even though they were the only two people in the wide entrance waiting to talk to the girl, to push her way beside him, only stopping when her arms imitated his and rested on the desk.

"And I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. His _partner_."

Booth gave her a quick sidelong glance. That was the first time he had ever heard Brennan refer to their relationship with a specific and noticeable emphasis on the word 'partner'. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought she was trying to imply that their bond was something other than work related.

"Yes, em, she's my partner and I want her to be my guest today. I've got one of the things here somewhere…"

Booth began a quick root in his bag and eventually pulled out a somewhat crumpled white laminated sheet of paper entitled 'guest pass' with his name in bold along the bottom. As he handed it over to the girl he realised that she and Brennan had been engaging in a furious staring match while he had been searching.

With a sniff the girl inspected the pass and typed the relevant details into the computer. She made something of a production of asking Brennan to spell her first name, the implication being that it was rather strange. When Brennan saw that the girl had neglected to put 'Dr.' before her name, she nearly hit the roof. Booth had to drag her from the room, arms tight around her waist, simultaneously apologising and thanking the bemused girl.

Booth eventually managed to get himself and his partner through the doors at the end of the room. Pleased with his achievements, his pride was short-lived as he had to spend a further three minutes holding Brennan in place as she kept trying to wrestle her way back to the girl to give her a piece of her mind. Booth's strong arms were too powerful, however, and eventually she slumped back against his chest. She tilted her head upwards to look at him.

"Well, you've finally managed to get me here. What do we do now?"

With a smile, he made a sweeping gesture with his hands across the vast room they were currently standing in. Treadmills, running machines, weights, cycling machines, rowing machines and brightly coloured mats stretched as far as the eye could see. There was also a sign pointing to a swimming pool in the next room. He had attempted to persuade her to make use of the pool and was lucky to have escaped with his life after that little suggestion. Her compromise was to join him at the gym, once, no swimming included.

"Anything you want, Bones."

She grumbled and stepped away from him.

"I don't understand why you have to spend a ridiculous amount of money for membership to simulate exercise that can be done for free normally."

Booth sighed. She'd agreed to come. She hadn't agreed not to complain. He mused privately that he really wouldn't have it any other way. Her blunt manner of addressing things was just one of the many things he loved about her. As a friend. Obviously.

"Well, if you want to drop your bag into the dressing room…the women's dressing room and I'll drop mine into the men's, I'll see you back here in a minute."

She nodded once at him and moved away to follow his instructions, ponytail bouncing merrily in time with her steps. Booth took a moment to appreciate her curves in the tracksuit bottoms and tank top she was currently sporting, which were perhaps slightly more figure hugging than her normal clothes. With a quick shake of his head, he went to deposit his own bag. After a few seconds he realised he was following his partner. With another shake of the head, accompanied by a little sigh, he turned in the opposite direction towards the men's dressing rooms.

_Damn her figure._ Her steps were hypnotic.

Soon after this Booth and Brennan were reunited in the middle of the floor once more. They moved to the side of the room and completed a number of warm-up exercises. After a quick discussion, some might even call it a heated argument, they decided to use the treadmills first. They chose two machines positioned beside one another. Booth attempted to lean over and show his partner how to program the machine and set the appropriate speed but she slapped him away and insisted that she could do it alone. He muttered something unintelligible and started his own.

Apparently Brennan had no clue what she was doing as when she first stepped on the machine she was almost propelled off the back of it. With an amused guffaw, Booth politely inquired how the 'doing it alone' idea was progressing. She gave him a nasty glare for his troubles and grumbled something about it being planned. With a twitching mouth, Booth returned to his own workout, but kept a cautious eye on his partner as she adjusted the machine's settings. When she stepped onto it the next time, it was without any major incident.

She gave him a triumphant smirk before reaching forward and increasing the speed. Booth moved his head sideways and had a quick peek at the lime green number displayed on the screen, indicating the current speed. With a flip of his stomach he realised that she was already on a higher speed than him. He quickly adjusted his machine accordingly and then, after a further moment's thought, pressed the increase speed button a further three times.

He could see a frown appearing on Brennan's face.

"Treadmills aren't very good training for actual long distance running, you know, Booth. The terrain outside is naturally littered with obstacles and undulations in slope. It's far easier to run on a treadmill."

A second or two later, Booth gasped his agreement. He stifled a groan as he saw Brennan push buttons a number of times and watched as her legs began to beat the moving surface faster and harder. Cursing his partner's fitness, he duly followed suit.

A number of minutes passed before Brennan offered, "This is brilliant. Can't you feel it tightening your tibialis anterior and hamstrings? Being, obviously, the biceps femoris, semimembranosus, and semitendinosus."

Under normal circumstances Booth might have been able to humour her anatomical references. Lack of oxygen to the brain tends to make an agent crabby, however, and he snarled, "No, Bones, I can't. I can't actually feel anything in my legs but burning fire. Can't tell _one_ muscle-somethingorotherus from another. Can we stop?"

Glancing at him in surprise, Brennan nodded and began to slow the machine down. Booth forced himself to wait a couple of seconds before he followed suit.

"You ok, Booth?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm grand. It's just, you…you're not really used to these things. Wouldn't want to overexert you on your first go."

With that, he and his purple face stumbled, wobbly-legged, off the machine.

"_Mmmhmm_." Brennan raised an eyebrow as she joined him on the carpet once more.

Booth placed his hands on his knees and wheezed for about fifteen seconds, all the while repeatedly asking his partner is she was ok, if that had been too much for her.

Brennan began to get antsy and looked around the room in search of the next machine she wanted to use.

"How about doing some weights? That would give your…ah…_our _legs a rest. What do think?"

Booth could have told her he thought she was some kind of evil demon robot sent to torment him but he knew that, with Brennan anyway, he'd need a little concrete evidence before he could throw accusations like that about. She often had a hard time distinguishing the times when people, particularly him, were being serious and the times things were being said purely in jest.

He felt he was being extremely fair when he simply nodded in agreement before slouching off after her.

Poor legs would probably never be the same.

Brennan had settled herself on a decline bench and was casting wary glances at the rows of dumbbells around her. Booth came to a stop beside her, one hand pressed against his side, trying to ease the discomfort of a cramp that had developed. She caught sight of his hand's position and gestured towards it inquiringly. When he explained, she began to launch into a very long and complicated reason for this, due to tissue respiration and lactic acid. He shut her up by plonking a dumbbell into her outstretched, gesturing right hand.

She gripped the weight firmly in her hand, giving him a very satisfied look that she hadn't managed to drop it. Unfortunately, all she seemed to be able to do was look. She had no real idea of what to do with it.

Chuckling gently to himself, Booth motioned for her to shimmy up the bench and he settled himself down behind her, both with a leg on either side of the bench. Hesitating for a moment, he plucked up the courage to move closer so that his chest was pressed against her back. He felt as well her saw an involuntary tremor ripple through her as he tried to focus on the task at hand and not Brennan's glossy hair or alluring scent.

He managed to fit two dumbbells into overhand grips, one on the left and one on the right. "Now," he breathed into her ear, "give me your hands." He placed her arms down the length of her knees. He could feel goosebumps running down her skin, but her back leaning firmly against him made it quite obvious that she was actually rather warm.

"Right, now this exercise would involve you lying back on the bench while moving the weights so that they're at the side of the torso, at chest level. They're then raised to straight-arm's length, no bending of the elbows at all. This means that the weights should be directly over the chest in contact with each other. The arms are then slowly bent and the dumbbells lowered until they are on either side of the chest. They're lowered until the most maximum comfortable stretch is reached. Then the weights are raised once more and the whole thing is repeated."

Throughout his whole description, Booth had moved Brennan's arms in the appropriate directions. His large hands completely encircled her little wrists. At the start of his instructions, Brennan had attempted to lie back against him, but had quickly realised that he hadn't meant for her to _literally_ follow that particular demand. This little revelation had been accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from the two at the feel of her pushing back hard against him. The partners had quickly ignored this and had completed the remainder of the pseudo demonstration in silence, both unaware that their flustered state of mind was betrayed to the other by the rapid pulse thumping through both of them.

Booth had ensured that the weights were safe and out of harm's way before he settled his hands down onto his knees. Neither partner seemed aware that they were now sitting tightly against one another for no apparent reason. Eventually, Booth moved his hands so that they briefly gripped the area around Brennan's shoulders. He heard her quietly gasp at the touch. Figuring he'd never really have a chance like this again, he slid his hands slowly down the length of her back and circled them around to rest briefly on her lower chest.

A second or two drifted past before he confirmed, "That exercise works those areas of the body."

It seemed to take Brennan a minute before she was able to reply, "I'm assuming you mean the anterior deltoids and the pectoralis major." When she named the second set of muscles, she rested her hands briefly on top of his, where they still pressed against her chest.

"Right."

About ten seconds later, the partners jumped up almost simultaneously. Both had grown uncomfortable with the prolonged contact and were unsure what to do about it. With a lot of throat clearing, Booth suggested that they do some exercises on the mats before calling it a day. Brennan offered no argument. Neither seemed willing to address the fact, either aloud or to themselves, that Brennan hadn't actually lifted any weights by herself nor had the two done very much exercise.

The partners flopped down on adjacent mats. Brennan began doing what looked like some kind of yoga movements. Booth began gently teasing her and then eased himself into a few push-ups. Roughly fifteen later the two were engaging in their final exercise, both doing sit-ups.

Amazed at the woman's sheer persistence, Booth glanced over at his partner.

"So, Bones, how many are you on?"

Brennan let out a quick gasp of air before replying, "About a hundred."

After a beat, she asked, "And you?"

"I...How many did you say you'd done again?"

"About a hundred."

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."

Brennan cast a furtive glance at her partner. He caught her eye and flashed her his biggest and best charm smile. In spite of herself, she giggled. Booth suddenly leapt into a standing position and held out a hand to help her up. Surprisingly, she accepted.

"Well, Bones, that was fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, Booth. Very good indeed. I rather enjoyed working up a sweat with you."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She laughed and skipped away from him towards the dressing room. A few seconds later Booth was on his way to collect his bag from the appropriate dressing room, having already tripped over a mat and walked into three people.

_Damn those hips_


	27. Chapter 27

**Ok, on we go. Quick request from you guys: I've a few more of these to post...but then I'm kinda drawing a blank. If anybody than think of any situations they'd like BB to find themselves in, I'd be very grateful! **

**Bones is not mine.**

Brennan took a deep breath before hesitantly knocking on the door.

She was left shifting her weight nervously for a number of seconds before the door opened and Booth's surprised, but smiling, face greeted her.

"Bones! Wasn't expecting you. Come in."

Brennan nodded slowly, possibly more to herself than to him. She crossed the threshold and Booth closed the door behind them.

He gestured towards the living room and Brennan followed him obediently.

"So, what's up?"

She bit her lip nervously.

"I…I dunno…I was just a bit…ah…lonely at home and…you always call in completely unannounced to me. This is no different!"

Booth smiled at her suddenly raised defences.

"I wasn't giving out, Bones. I was just wondering to what do I owe the pleasure."

Brennan coloured instantly.

"Oh. Sorry. I…should I have brought food or something? I don't really know what I'm meant to do…"

Her eyes moved about the room, searching for anything to focus her thoughts. Her gaze fell on a rather plastic looking white sheet on the floor in the middle of the room, adorned with different coloured dots.

"What's that?"

Booth ran a hand across the back of his head.

"Oh, that's just Twister. Parker was over earlier and he really loves it so…"

He let out a short burst of laughter at Brennan's lost expression.

"You've never played Twister?"

She crossed her arms protectively across her chest and said in a very small voice, "No."

Booth began jumping around like a little kid.

"Well, come on! I'll teach you."

"Booth, I don't know…"

"Please, Bones? PLEASE?"

He batted his eyes at her and pushed his lower lip upward. Brennan laughed and swatted his head.

"That's a yes?"

"Fine. It's a yes."

Skipping madly, Booth practically pounced on top of the sheet. He held up a square of cardboard that Brennan hadn't noticed before. It was divided into four sections, each section corresponding to specific hand or foot. There was a black pointer in the middle that could be rotated around the square.

"Ok, Bones, now what happens is, this little dial thing is spun around" he gave a quick demonstration, "and wherever it lands, that's where you have to move whatever part of your body it's referring to."

Brennan nodded.

"First one to fall loses. Ok, let's go."

On her second go, Brennan fell over, squishing her face against the sheet. She angrily blew her bangs out of her face and glowered at Booth's hysterical laughter.

"That was so…that was only your second go…you'd only moved a hand and a foot…hee HEE!"

Brennan punched him defensively.

"That was a practise go."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Sure it was."

They started again. Brennan got into the swing of it and things quickly turned competitive. The room was soon filled with shouts objecting to the other person's most recent move.

"You can't put your hand there!"

"Well your back is in my way!"

"That's because you put your right hand on my blue."

"It is not _your_ blue! That was the only one I could reach."

"Your foot is on the green I want."

"Well, tough. Find another green."

"I can't…I'm not…the body's not meant to bend this way."

"You can't _move_ my hand!"

"You're just trying to make things difficult."

"I am not! That's what the spinny thing says!"

"Hey! Hey! HEY! No touching! Particularly not _there_!"

"I wasn't touching, I was falling."

"Then you lose!"

"I didn't actually fall. I was just starting to fall. Your…ah…well, you prevented me from doing so. Thank you."

There was a rather undignified snort in response.

Brennan's thigh started to vibrate.

"Ooh, Booth that's my…my phone…I have to…"

Booth had shut his eyes tightly as soon as the ringing as begun.

"Yes, Bones, I can tell it's your phone. It's practically stuck to my ear. Oh my God. I'm going deaf. I'm _actually_ going deaf."

Ignoring him, Brennan dug her hand into her pocket. The awkward position of her body made the object exceedingly difficult to retrieve. She barely completed it without falling over and nearly throttled Booth in the process.

Finally, she tilted her head upwards, shook the hair out of her eyes and gasped, "Brennan."

"Sweetie? Is everything alright?"

Brennan gave Booth's hand a quick kick, as it was currently pushing against her foot in the quest to know who was on the phone. She counted to ten and exhaled slowly.

"Everything's fine, Ange. I just…what's up?"

Angela was cut off before she could even begin by Booth furiously exclaiming, "You don't kick people! That's against the rules…my hand was…couldn't move my hand…no kicking!"

"Booth's there? Where are you?"

Brennan glared down at Booth, who glared right back, then spoke into the phone once more, "I'm at Booth's. We're just…eh…not to be rude or anything but why did you call?"

She could actually hear her friend smiling down the phone.

"Ok, I get it. I'm not wanted. Not that I blame you, of course. Mr. Hunky F.B.I man with his chiselled good looks, muscular figure…"

"Ange!"

"Sorry, Sweetie. But you know you can't deny it. Listen, I got the number of that friend of mine."

Brennan's mind was blank.

"The dentist, Sweetie? The one you asked me to get for you coz you don't trust your own dentist?"

Brennan gave her head a quick shake as she replied, "Oh, right. Sorry. Ok…em…"

She looked around and noticed a little coffee table situated beside the couch. On it there was a pen and some kind of sheet of paper. Booth could easily reach that.

"Ok, Ange, hang on…Booth? Could you do me a favour?"

The somewhat muffled voice of her partner loudly replied, "Well, Bones, seeing as I'm the one who's currently got his head between your thighs, I'd say you're doing _me_ the favour."

Brennan grimaced at the loud squeal that exploded into her ear.

She gave her partner's hand another hearty kick, but he simply smiled wickedly up at her and mouthed "Payback".

"Brennan!"

"Booth!"

Grinning happily, Booth decided to join in on the fun and added a joyful shout of, "Bones!"

After a further few seconds of frantic yelling, in which Booth's head was jostled around an inordinate amount, Brennan finally let out a piercing whistle. Everyone immediately shut up, Angela doing so with an enormous volume of grumbling about how some people should warn other people before they burst their fragile innocent eardrums.

"Everybody, time up!"

She felt a little pull as Booth began to tug on her trouser leg.

"It's time-out, Bones. Time-out."

Brennan's face fell but she nevertheless continued, "Oh. Fine. Anyway, Angela, nothing's going on…we're just…it's a game."

"We're playing a game, Angela. One you know well. Arms and legs everywhere."

"Booth!"

"Sweetie!"

Brennan let out a strangled cry.

"No, look, Angela, nothing's going on. We're just playing a game. Twisting or something."

"Yeah, we're twisting all over each other."

"Booth! No, Angela, it's nothing. I…Booth! Stop scratching your nose on my leg! Booth! That…that TICKLES!"

"Oh my God, you guys, just get a room!"

Through gritted teeth Brennan managed to choke out, "Not…_helping_…Angela."

"Listen, Sweetie, how 'bout I ring you later when you're finished…and if you have any sense you won't be finished for QUITE some time…"

"Bye, Angela."

Brennan hung up and pushed a hand into Booth's face.

"That wasn't funny."

"Oh yes it was. And all without falling over too."

"You should be disqualified."

"I didn't fall! You on the other hand were kicking me all over the place…"

Booth began to move a hand up the inside of Brennan's leg. He managed to squish his fingers past the part where his head was snugly held in place and continued on up.

Brennan's eyes rolled.

"Booth…you can't…_Booth_!"

It all became too much and Brennan tumbled to the ground, nearly squishing her partner. Not that he minded. He joyously exclaimed into her chest, "I won!"

"You cheated!"

"You want a rematch?"

"You bet I do!"


	28. Chapter 28

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews. You guys are the best!**

**Bones is definitely not mine. Or so I'm told.**

Whistling merrily to himself, Booth stopped in front of his partner's door. Making something of a production of it, he raised his fist and gave the material two smart knocks.

"Hello?"

Her voice called from within, sounding slightly apprehensive.

"Bones? You ok?"

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a groan from inside.

"Booth? Um…I'm fine. Everything's fine. How are you?"

Looking down at the floor in disbelief, Booth leaned slightly against the doorframe as he responded.

"I'm fine too, Bones. Are you going to let me in or do we have to conduct the entire conversation through a closed door?"

There was a prolonged silence. Booth pressed his ear against the door, trying to figure out what was happening inside. He got nothing.

"Bones?"

With a definite sigh of frustration, he heard his partner begin to move towards him. Something about her steps sounded strange.

The door opened and Brennan stood there looking at him, a 'this better be good' expression dominating her features.

Convinced now that something was up, and determined he was going to find out what it was, Booth cocked his head and gave her his absolute best charm smile. The one he knew she couldn't help responding to.

"Well…aren't you going to invite me in?"

Looking slightly pained, Brennan shuffled sideways and opened the door wider.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Booth crossed the threshold and began to move across the room.

He heard the door click shut behind him…but no footsteps following.

He did rather a fancy turn on the heel of his shoe. Brennan was still standing in front of the door.

"Everything ok, Bones?"

She shifted her weight onto one hip and glanced around her, almost as though trying to show that this, exactly this spot, was exactly where she wanted to be.

She nodded at him, smiling tightly.

"Sure. Everything is definitely ok."

"So, he made a sweeping gesture towards the living room, are you going to come join me?"

She appeared to give the proposal some consideration before pursing her lips slightly and slowly shaking her head.

Booth let out a short bark of incredulous laughter.

"You're just going to stay there then?"

Addressing her feet, Brennan said in a very small voice, "That's right. I'm just going to stay here. You can go inside if you want."

Booth gave his head a quick shake. When he looked up again his partner was still in the same spot. She caught him looking at her and shifted her features into a pained smile.

Muttering slightly to himself, he advanced toward her.

"Ok, Bones, what's up?"

Her face took on a 'deer-in-the-headlights' expression and she took a shuffly half a step back.

"Nothing, Booth. Nothing's…ah…up. I'm fine."

His eyes and posture took on a rather predatory appearance, making her breath quicken slightly for more than one reason.

"Really, Bones? Because you're not acting fine."

He began slowly circling her, speaking his words breathily into her ears. In spite of everything, she found her eyes closing, almost of their own accord, and relished the delicious tingling sensations radiating out from where his soft breath tickled her skin.

He stopped at her right side and leaned in closer than at any other time previously. This time he spoke his words somewhere beyond her ear, into the handful of her hair he had gathered up into his deft embrace.

"Am I going to have to start examining you to see what's wrong?"

Her eyes flew open and she took a hasty step away from him. Booth didn't realise what she was doing until it was too late. She moved forward but that section of hair remained stationary in Booth's grip.

The force of the pull to her head sent her jolting backwards. She connected solidly with his chest, knocking the wind out of him. She spun around furiously at him. The two stood for a moment, frantically rubbing their injured areas and giving the other one the evil eye.

A growl of frustration rumbling through her, Brennan began to march into the living room.

Booth opened his mouth to comment, but was overcome by silent, all-consuming laughter as he watched his partner's progress across the floor. He gave her a minute to settle herself, and for him to calm down, before he followed her.

She was seated on her couch, looking rather pleased with herself. She evidently thought she'd put on some kind of impressive performance that would have completely fooled him.

He leaned against the wall, not trusting himself to move towards her yet. He drummed his fingers absently then suddenly looked at her with a clear of his throat, as though something had just occurred to him.

"Say, Bones…how come you're walking like a peg-legged penguin?"

Her stricken face broke down the barriers he had placed against the violent expression of his humour. He laughed long and hard, gasping for breath. Brennan seemed to shrink in on herself. She crossed her arms defensively against her chest, her cheeks quickly colouring.

With a haughty turn of her head, and a tone to match, she responded, "Penguins don't have pegs for legs, Booth. I think you should know that." She shot him a pitying glance.

Sighing gently, Booth regained control of his emotions and moved over to sit down beside her.

"You learn something new every day." He muttered quietly to himself, but loudly enough that she could hear.

She eyed him warily, not sure about what he would do next.

He reached a hand over and placed it firmly and assuredly on her knee. Heat spread like wildfire from the spot. He moved his thumb slightly. She shook her head gently. How did he always know what to do, even when she herself felt utterly lost? Encouraged, she raised her gaze to meet his.

"I…well, it's really quite embarrassing…it's just…"

He nodded at her, willing her to continue. His unwavering gaze and the slight increase of pressure on her knee gave her the strength she needed.

"Well, you see, I went to get a…a wax…eh…you know…THERE, but the stuff they used reacted really badly with my skin and…"

At the word "wax" Booth had jumped slightly. As her brief explanation continued, he brought the hand that wasn't resting on her knee up to his mouth, attempting to use it to shield the smile that was forming.

Unfortunately, Brennan realised what he was doing. With a "kah" of disgust, she pushed his warm hand off her knee and gave his thigh a quick punch. Then another for good measure.

He raised his hands defensively, but his enormous smile didn't really help his case.

"Booth! That was really difficult for me to say. It's very embarrassing and…and you don't know just how much women have to go through. You have it easy. You just shower, put a truckload of gel into your hair and occasionally shave your face. You don't have to wax or pluck or exfoliate or poke yourself in the eye with the mascara. Not to mention stomach cramps."

Booth looked suitably abashed and even slightly horrified at her list of tortures, especially the last one. He decided it was safer not to take offence at the 'truckload of gel' snipe.

"You're right, Bones. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed."

She nodded quickly at him, then stared off into the distance. Booth examined his hands, occasionally stealing quick glances at her profile. The comfortable lengthy silence had seeped into every corner of the room when Booth finally lost the battle against the words that had been fighting to escape since she had told him what was wrong.

"Just so you know, the offer for that examination still stands."


	29. Chapter 29

**Thanks for the lovely reviews! Here's the next part! Oh, and, eh...well...I'm really low on inspiration so if I don't find some soon this will either have to go on a very long break...or just...end. Hopefully I'll sort something out.**

**Bones still isn't mine. But I'm working on it.**

"Oh, _hello_! You must be Parker's mother?"

Brennan squinted at the woman.

"No."

"Oh…then you're Seeley's wife?"

"No."

The woman's smile was faltering.

"Girlfriend?"

"I'm his _partner_."

The woman looked slightly nervous at Brennan's response, which was made through gritted teeth.

"Well…eh…nice to meet you, dear."

She hurriedly latched on to one of her friends, exclaiming something to her quite loudly, with many rather open backwards glances, about Seeley's very politically correct love interest.

Brennan's discomfort intensified.

A few seconds later, Booth and Parker bounded up to her.

"Hey Bones…woah! What's with the face like a monkey trying to swallow a pineapple?"

"I don't know what that means."

Parker directed a somewhat open-mouthed face towards Booth.

"I don't either, Daddy."

Booth harrumphed, muttering something about how nobody ever seems to appreciate humour anymore.

"You finally say something funny, Booth, and I promise I will laugh."

The two bickered as they crossed over the grassy field and under a large banner that read "Welcome! Students and parents sports day." Parker's school held an annual sports day and this was the first year they had decided to invite parents along for the fun. Rebecca had been devastated but she was absolutely swamped with work and couldn't possibly take the time off.

After many days of pleading, cajoling and some downright grovelling, Booth had finally convinced Brennan to take a few long overdue hours off from work and come along. He had promised, Angela had been the rather amused witness to a very serious pinky swear, that she did not have to pretend to be Parker's mother, nor did they have to act like a couple. She was simply coming so that Parker wouldn't feel left out…and so that Booth wouldn't be lonely. She was more than happy to eventually comply if it pleased Parker. Neither made any further comment on how her being there was also a personal favour to Booth, but both were more than a little pleased that she was present as his chosen companion.

Parents and children were gathering just beyond the colourful banner, where the principal was waiting to address them when everybody was within hearing distance. Eventually, the man stepped forward to welcome them all. He went on to explain that the various races and sporting competitions throughout the day would be completed either with student competing against parent, parent competing against parent or student competing against student. Competitors would be told which of the three possibilities applied before the beginning of each competition. Parents were encouraged to enter at least one contest during the course of the day's events.

With that, the principal declared the day started and children ran screaming in all directions, parents frantically chasing behind and guiding them over to starting points marked by little flags stuck in the ground. Parker gave an excited squeal and began dragging his daddy, by the hand. Booth, in turn, grabbed onto Brennan's wrist and took her along for the ride.

Parker finally ground to a halt before the egg and spoon starting point. Brennan's momentum carried her forward and she crashed squarely into Booth's back. She immediately began a heated discussion with him about politely moving out of the way when he stopped.

Eventually, the two simmered down enough to hear the long-suffering teacher's instructions concerning the race.

"Eggs in spoons? That is the most ridiculous…"

Booth swatted her away and rubbed his ear. Her warm whispering breath was very distracting. Although, he supposed, he should be thankful that she hadn't just bellowed it out for the whole group to hear. Maybe she was finally learning.

They were all handed spoons and eggs. Brennan immediately stuck her tongue out between her teeth and stared intently at her egg, occasionally prodding it around on the spoon and muttering about finding the centre of gravity.

"On your marks…"

Booth cast a sidelong glance over at his partner. She was still completely absorbed in her hypothesis.

"Bones!"

"Shh, Booth. I'm working."

"Get set…"

"Never mind that, Bones, just _run_."

"Go!"

Booth immediately sprinted off with the crowd. A second or two later he glanced over his shoulder. Brennan was still standing at the starting line, furiously muttering to her egg. He let out a frustrated growl and raced back to her. Before she had even had time to protest, he had taken hold of her sleeve and pulled her forward.

"Booth! You broke my egg!"

"I did _not_!"

"You _stood_ on it!"

"Ok, now you're just getting technical."

Parker didn't notice his father's bickering with his aggrieved partner as he joyfully rejoined them. He had managed to come in third and was absolutely delighted with himself. The two quickly refocused their attention on him and showered him with praise. Next, the blonde haired boy bounced off in the direction of the wheelbarrow race. He quickly decided that his accompanying partners were far too big to be of any use to him and so paired up with a round-faced brunette boy of similar height.

Brennan turned to Booth curiously.

"Wheelbarrow?"

"Yeah, Bones. One person is the wheelbarrow and the other person is the one "moving" the wheelbarrow. Come on, we should give it a go."

"Someone just can't become an inanimate object, Booth, that's…"

"Spare me the lecture, Bones. Just give me your ankles."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're the wheelbarrow."

"Why am _I _the wheelbarrow?"

"Because…because you just _are_. Now lie down on your stomach."

Grumbling to herself, Brennan did as he asked. She insisted, though, that the little kick he received as she settled herself was purely accidental.

"Ok, people, into your positions."

All of the pairs along the starting line complied.

"Booth, nobody else is touching bare ankles."

"I just thought it would give better leverage."

"Well, it doesn't. It tickles."

Booth rearranged his hands' position as the teacher called out, "On your marks…get set…GO!" And they were off.

A few minutes later found Brennan storming off the competition area, Booth jogging behind her.

"Booth! We were winning!"

"To mostly five year olds, Bones. You really call that an accomplishment?"

"Of course!"

Booth threw his hands up in frustration. Brennan scowled in return.

"You know, you could have thought of a more subtle way to make me stop."

"Well, I tried, subtly, asking you but, if anything, that made you faster. You were barrelling full speed towards the finish line. Little kids were flying left, right and centre."

Brennan muttered something about how people shouldn't compete if they can't take a bit of competition.

"I think it's a bit excessive when one of the contestants is foaming at the mouth, Bones."

"I was not foaming! I was merely…you still shouldn't have slid your hands up to my thighs."

"I couldn't think of anything else that would surprise you enough to stop."

"You could have just simply stopped yourself."

"I _did_! You, apparently, took no notice. You just ground your gears and dragged me along for the ride."

"I did not _grind_ my anything. I don't even have gears. You should have just asked me to stop."

"What, in the name of the law? Coz I'm sure you would have really paid attention to _that_."

Parker joined them momentarily. He and his partner had tumbled to the ground seconds into the race. He didn't mind in the least and was practically humming from the fun of it all. His eyes sparkled with the exertion.

The remainder of the day passed in a blur of screams and clapping. Sandwiches and cold drinks were provided in the middle of it all, rejuvenating depleting batteries and heightening the noise levels. Parker managed to win a running race and hadn't stopped skipping ever since. To their due, Booth and Brennan, to their surprise as much as anyone else's, were the victors of the three-legged race. After they had collected their prizes, Brennan confessed that she attributed their success to the fact that Booth was very "solid". Her partner was not amused.

Eventually, the three were bundled into Booth's car. Parker fell asleep almost instantaneously, his fair curls bouncing fetchingly to the movement of the vehicle. The journey was passed mostly in silence, so as not to wake the young boy. They eventually pulled up in front of Brennan's apartment building.

Booth glanced over at her.

"So…"

"_So_."

They both smiled.

"Thanks for a lovely day, Booth. I really…it was very…thanks."

Booth nodded, his eyes twinkling.

"No problem, Bones. And thank _you_."

His slight emphasis on the 'you' made colour rise suddenly to her cheeks. She fumbled her way out of the car. Before turning away, she leaned back in through the open window.

"It was…fun. Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy competition."

She held his gaze for longer than necessary. His breath caught at the glint in her eye and the slight raise of her eyebrow. Shivers raced across his scalp and down his back.

"No, Bones. There definitely isn't."


	30. Chapter 30

**Thank you to all my lovely reviewers...I'm still uncertain about where this is going...just have to wait and see, I guess. This one makes reference to an earlier one about pancake making. Just mentioning to hopefully avoid any confusion.**

**Bones isn't mine. I'm reduced to bribery.**

"Ok, this is going to be done quickly and quietly. You go to the left and I'll veer to the right. We meet back just inside the front door in exactly three minutes and…"

Brennan gave a disgusted grunt.

"It's not a military operation, Booth."

"Ok, did you hear Angela on the phone? She was talking about taking no prisoners and how there's no casualties in this sort of thing, only winners and losers."

"And you _believed_ her? Booth, she was just saying all that stuff to try and get me all riled up. Although, apparently, the little female empowerment speech worked more on you than me."

Booth's ears went crimson and he started muttering to his chest about how he was only trying to help and how certain people should stop trying to infringe upon his masculinity.

"There has to be some masculinity present in the first place for me to infringe upon it."

Booth drew himself up to his full height.

"Excuse you, I'll have you know I'm _very _masculine."

A passing crowd of teenage girls apparently agreed with him: a number of them wolf whistled and there were a couple of shouts of "Yeah ya are!" at his comment.

Booth stuck his thumbs into the loops for his belt on his trousers and proudly surveyed his admirers. Two seconds later he was hurriedly tugging on Brennan's sleeve.

"Oh my God, Bones, can we get moving? Those girls look like they want meat."

Raising her eyebrows in disdain at the fearful tone in Booth's voice, Brennan cast a leisurely glance over at the group of girls. Upon seeing the extremely predatory look on the majority of the salivating teens' faces, she hurriedly rushed Booth to safety.

Once they were inside, Booth immediately hunched his shoulders. He drew his elbows in close to his body and his eyes darted from side to side.

"Booth, have you gone into stealth mode?"

"What? No! I was just…yeah, maybe."

Brennan surveyed the scene before her in disbelief.

"Booth, it's just a clothes shop."

"Yeah, but…but that's not the point and…and it's a _women's _clothes shop!"

She stared at him.

"You think women are scarier than men?"

"_Definitely_!"

She paused a moment.

"Do _I _scare you?"

Booth suddenly overcame his paralysis and barrelled off into the shop, shouting loudly over his shoulder about how there was no possible way she could ever scare him. Not in a million years. Brennan smiled secretly to herself as she went to inspect some dresses over to her right. Little did he realise that he had just answered in the affirmative by bounding off in such a manner.

Booth had been in the process of driving Brennan home after interviewing a suspect when Angela had called. She had hysterically reminded Brennan that the annual dinner for the Jeffersonian was tonight.

Poor Angela was all in a flap when, after relaying her outfit for the twentieth time in her head to herself, and for the sixteenth aloud to a quickly-losing-his-patience Hodgins, she realised that she hadn't heard Brennan mention anything about an outfit. Not once.

Brennan decided, somewhat diplomatically, not to inform her that she had planned on "forgetting" about the whole event until the last minute, therefore leaving her with no time to shop. No dress equalled no dinner. Unfortunately, her friend's brain had switched on before crunch time. This case must have pushed it all from Angela's mind…that and the five hundred dollar shoes Hodgins had surprised her with to complete the ensemble.

So, on loudspeaker, she had proceeded to cajole and bribe Brennan into going and finding an appropriate evening gown for the occasion. Once she remembered Booth was in the car too, she roped him in as well. Although, her impassioned speech about the pride and integrity to be found in triumphing over other half-crazed women in the successful completion of their quest had something of a negative effect on poor Booth. The man was rather pale after the connection was severed and had to lean on the side of the car for a few minutes after they'd exited before he could persuade his wobbly legs to wobble forward.

Two minutes later, Brennan had three dresses draped over her right arm. Her left was being used to examine other potential eveningwear. Suddenly, behind her, there was a low "Psst." Brennan spun around and nearly fell over Booth, who was crouching down at waist level. He had a finger raised conspiratorially against his lips. More than a little annoyed that he had managed to startle her so much, Brennan reached down with her free hand and yanked him into a standing position by his ear.

"Booth, you're being ridiculous!"

"But Angela said…"

With a growl, Brennan unceremoniously flung the gowns into Booth's hands.

"Here, hold these."

Obediently, more than a little fearful of the manic glint in Brennan's eyes, Booth followed her around for a further three minutes. Thankfully he was unaware of the approving glances thrown Brennan's way over how well she had trained her boyfriend.

Finally, Brennan decided that she already had in her possession all of the dresses she could ever possibly consider wearing, and made a beeline for the changing rooms. Booth trotted after her.

Brennan strode in through the doorframe underneath the words "Fitting Rooms" without so much as a backwards glance. Booth hopped nervously from one foot to the other before finally plucking up all of his courage and poked his head inside. He couldn't see Brennan so, to the sound of an undertone running pep talk, he fell in through the entrance himself.

Brennan was standing in the middle of what looked like an endless corridor of cubicles, all of which had their curtains pulled open.

"There's nobody here."

"Well thanks for that, Sherlock. Next we can solve the mystery of whatever happened to Mother Hubbard's cupboard."

"No, I meant, none of the employees are here."

Booth had a quick glance around.

"Ok. Right. Well, just get it there and try these on anyway. You don't need someone here to do that."

"Do you think I should?"

"Now who's the scared one?"

Brennan scowled at him and wrenched the fabric out of his rather strong grasp.

"Ok, but would you just sit over there" she indicated the little stool in the cubicle opposite the one she was currently entering "and tell me what you think?"

A rather superior smile blossomed on Booth's face. He strutted over to the seat and settled himself down on it slowly before replying, "Are you saying my opinion matters to you?"

Brennan, about to pull the curtain closed, paused, looking somewhat flustered.

"I…well, not exactly…it's just there's no one else here, so, I just thought…"

Booth made a waving motion with his hand to indicate that she should just shut the curtain and get started.

About two minutes later, after a lot of rustling and a number of muffled curses, the curtain was pulled back once more.

She was a vision. She had hastily tied her hair up into a loose messy bun to keep it out of her face. The dark green of the material contrasted perfectly with her pale skin and highlighted the lighter sections of her hair. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, face slightly flushed.

Brennan wasn't sure why she was so nervous. Booth had obviously seen her dressed up before…but there was something that seemed so much more intimate about seeing her wearing potential dresses. Possibly because, when he'd seen her before, it had been wearing something she'd previously chosen and was comfortable in. Trying clothes on for the first time always housed the possibility for disaster. And there he was, wide eyes witness to her potential disaster.

"You look…that is…it's stunning, Bones. It's just stunning."

She ducked her head slightly in embarrassment.

"You really think so?"

He held her gaze.

"Absolutely."

She hastily fought her way back around the curtain to slip into the next possibility and give her blood time to return to normal speed. She felt as though her pulse should be visible pounding through her veins. One smouldering look from that man and…_no_. No time for that now.

The next dress was nice…it just didn't suit her as well as the first for some reason. Neither could put a finger on the cause for this…but they both unanimously agreed that this was the case.

Brennan slid back behind the material barrier to try the final dress. She took longer than she had the previous two times and Booth was getting quite antsy by the time she finally pulled back the curtain.

She looked incredible. Some strands of hair had come free of the hairstyle and were now floating softly around her face. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, desperate, but afraid to ask outright, for approval. The dress was a deep red, almost wine colour. The thinnest spaghetti straps circled her creamy shoulders, giving way to an expanse of material that synched in tightly at her waist and then flowed freely to the floor. Delicate diamante jewels adorned the top section of the gown. The sumptuousness of the shade brought out the intense colour of her lips and the gleam in her gaze.

"I…"

Unable to form a coherent sentence, Booth managed to pull himself from his sitting position and move across the floor until he was standing in front of his partner.

"That is…I always knew you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Now you've just proven it, without a doubt."

Instinctively, Brennan stepped back from the closeness of his person. She was more than a little confused at the fire she could clearly see dancing in his eyes.

"I should go get changed…I guess I've found my dress…"

Booth nodded vehemently. He made his way mutely back to his little seat. He glanced back up at Brennan once he'd settled himself down.

She gave him a little grin.

"You're gonna have to close your mouth sometime, Booth."

She closed the curtain with a flourish.

She was making fun of him! She was actually ridiculing the fact that he appreciated the way she looked…after all he'd done for her today…hadn't given out about the way she'd bossed him around…he'd been humiliated. The memory of her embarrassing him after their little pancake making incident came flooding back. Finally, a perfect opportunity for revenge.

He crept silently over to her cubicle, only just resisting the urge to hum the James Bond theme tune as he did so. He turned an ear to face the curtain. He heard a little sigh…a small bump…and finally the rustle as the material hit the floor.

Not waiting a millisecond, lest she grab some item of clothing with which she could use to cover herself, he pulled back the curtain rather forcefully.

There she stood. Clad in only a little black bra and matching panties. A delicate floral design stitched in pink followed the underwear's edge, which he allowed his eyes to appreciatively follow. The reflection in the mirror informed him that the back of the bra consisted of an almost lacy design incorporating the same pink stitching.

Startled, Brennan jumped backwards with a scream. She tripped up over the pooled material on the floor. Booth's arm shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist.

"What on _earth _do you think…?"

Booth barely had time to explain about the rebuttal for the towel taking fiasco when a rather scandalised voice interrupted him.

"What are you doing?"

Booth hastily turned to face a blonde twenty-something year old looking at him expectantly. Her nametag identified her as Kelly, a store employee.

"I was just…em…see, this" he indicated over to Brennan, who was holding the chosen dress up against her, "is my girlfriend and…well, we don't use curtains at home…nothing I haven't seen before..."

At the girl's glare, he added, "Sorry for coming in here in the first place, but we just figured, seeing as nobody else was here…"

The girl's face softened and she nodded.

Booth flashed Brennan a smile.

"See, honey, no harm done."

Then, simply because he knew another opportunity like this mightn't arise for quite some time, he bridged the gap between them and captured her lips with his own. To his intense surprise, after a second or two of sheer astonishment, she responded. Her soft, warm lips pushed gently against his own. Her hands moved to grip his forearms. His body was now holding the dress firmly to her. He could feel her eyelashes fluttering. She let out a soft, breathy sigh, sending tingles racing across his lips.

A small throat clearing from behind them sent the two springing apart. Mouths slightly open, cheeks healthily flushed, they both shot the girl sheepish grins, Brennan quickly pulling the material against herself once more.

"Sorry."

She simply shook her head, smiling, and walked away from the pair.

"I better go wait outside."

Brennan nodded mutely. Suddenly, her face became stern.

"Booth, you shouldn't have done that. You know how I feel about lying…"

Before she had time to blink, Booth's face was inches from hers. Mischief glinted in his eyes and a smile tugged irresistibly on his lips as he dropped his gaze lingeringly towards her own, slightly parted, lips. She shivered.

He pulled back and began walking towards the exit, throwing over his shoulder as he did, "And now I know how you feel about kissing me."


	31. Chapter 31

**Oh, gosh, thanks so much to all my lovely reviews. Well, you seemed to like the kissage in that last chapter. Agh! The pressure! This is a continuation from the last, you'll hopefully be happy to know.**

**Bones is not mine. If it were, Brennan would have jumped Booth a long time ago. Or, at the very least, I would have.**

"Oh wow. Oh, sweetie. Oh that's just…"

Apparently Angela's words alone weren't adequate enough to describe Brennan's new dress. Instead, she showed her admiration by gripping her friend's hands and pulling her around in a circle. The joyful gesture was rendered rather awkward, however, as Angela was bouncing around in delight and Brennan was standing extremely stiffly, only shuffling slightly when the momentum absolutely compelled that she must move or risk toppling over.

Eventually the little display of appreciation around the sumptuously decorated entrance came to a halt when Hodgins reached out and caught Angela around the waist, chuckling, "I think she gets it." Brennan nearly fell over with relief that the whole incident was done with, but that could have had something to do with the fact that Angela had increased the speed during the last minute and poor Brennan's head didn't know whether she was up or down.

"Glad you like it." She managed to gasp before promptly stumbling into the wall. She gestured a hand towards Angela's wobbly-legged figure and panted, "I love yours too." Of course, Angela knew this already, having shown it to Brennan at least six times since she'd bought it and having received many, increasingly disheartened, words of praise at each displaying. Still, a compliment was always a compliment. Giggling madly, Hodgins managed to prop the two women up, one leaning on either hip until their worlds stopped turning and they could move unaided.

Brennan glanced around the large entrance hall, desperately trying to regain her balance. The Jeffersonian had rented out the entire ground floor of a very well respected hotel for the dinner this year. Normally, a tasteful but modest conference room was reserved for the event. This year, however, the institute felt they had much to celebrate. As a result of the many cases Dr. Brennan and her team at the Medico Legal Lab had managed to solve as part of their work with the F.B.I., the Jeffersonian was gaining in prominence. This fame was accelerated due to the phenomenal popularity of Dr. Brennan's best-selling books. All in all, the Jeffersonian felt that something a little bit more upmarket would be more appropriate to hold their annual dinner. After all, increased fame led to increased donations.

Unsurprisingly, Brennan's thoughts drifted to her partner. Their kiss hadn't been discussed. The two had left the shop, the new dress carried almost reverently in a bag in Booth's hands, and had driven to Brennan's apartment without alluding to the incident even once. She had been in the process of gathering up her things when she suddenly blurted, "Do you want to come to this dinner?"

He had looked, for a moment, as though he'd slapped with a rather wet fish. Slowly, his eyebrows raised and his lips curled upwards.

"You mean, like as a date?"

She had instantly started humming and hawing. Eventually, he had caught both her wrists in one of his strong, broad hands.

"I'd love to."

She shivered self-consciously and glanced down at her pale wrists. Why could she still feel his touch burning across her skin all this time later? It was exceedingly odd and was hurting Brennan's head to think about it.

"More to the point, sweetie, did Booth like it?"

Brennan was dragged, kicking and screaming, from her reminiscing into reality once more. She could feel the heat instantly rise in her chest and spread like wildfire to her face. Did Angela somehow know what she had been thinking? It was best to pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary. Of course, with Angela, this was far easier said than done. Brennan shrugged delicately, or at least, she meant to shrug delicately but she was so flustered that the movement came out somewhat differently than expected and Hodgins was lucky not to lose an eye.

She hastily stepped back from the widely grinning pair, feeling the need to distance herself from their intense knowing looks before she could answer. She opened her mouth to scoff, rather eloquently, at the suggestion but something must have gone wrong in the process as all that came out was a high-pitched squeak.

Hodgins wandered off into the main hall chuckling to himself and muttering something about "having it bad". Brennan glared darkly at his retreating figure.

An obstacle, in the form of a peppy Angela, was placed in her line of vision.

"Can I remind you that that's my man you're currently shooting darkies at?"

Brennan shuffled slightly and mumbled nonsense to the ground.

Angela reached a hand down and managed to pull Brennan's head skywards once more. She held her gaze, a twinkle gleaming somewhat manically in her dancing eyes.

"So…what did he think? What did he say? What did he do?"

Brennan was rescued from answering, perhaps not in the way she would have liked, by the arrival of 'he' himself. She was surrounded by his familiar scent, a mixture of strength and sensuality, before she physically clapped eyes on him. She was used to Booth's intoxicating aroma, comforted by it even, but for some reason it seemed to affect her more than usual tonight. A tingling began in the base of her spine and rapidly worked it's way up her back, sending shivers racing across her body. Her eyes rolled slightly and she gave out a contented little sigh. Of course, none of this went unnoticed by the practically buzzing artist.

Booth took her hand and gently spun her around so that she was facing him. Almost without realising it, Brennan stumbled slightly. She ended up pressed against his firm chest. Looking down on her with smiling eyes, Booth couldn't help but comment, "I didn't pull you THAT hard."

Feeling the colour flame in her cheeks, Brennan took a hurried step backwards. She could see Angela off to the side, giggling madly at her friend's antics. Her smile looked painful, like it was being held in place by a particularly long hanger. Brennan vowed not to look over in that direction if she could help it.

Her posture instantly went poker stiff when she saw Booth catching Angela's eye and grin broadly. They were ridiculing her! Of all of the... Well, she'd just show them that she wasn't in the least bit perturbed by her partner's smouldering presence.

She raised a hand, rather rigidly, and offered it for him to shake. His eyebrows looked set to launch skywards. After a number of seconds, when he had made no movement, she moved her hand in an impressively straight line at a right angle to the floor to remind him that the gesture must be acknowledged.

"Agent Booth."

Her voice was low, even.

Glancing somewhat frantically at Angela, Booth took her hand in his and shook it a number of times.

"Dr. Brennan."

He flashed her a smile and arched an eyebrow enticingly.

Not to be outdone, Brennan increased the speed of the shake.

"Agent Booth."

Lips twitching manically, Booth tightened his grip on Brennan's rapidly warming hand.

"Dr. Brennan."

Angela quickly came skipping over, lest the greeting competition go on all night. She glanced curiously between the pair.

"You two alright?"

Brennan turned a cool and collected gaze towards her friend.

"Perfect, Angela. Just thought the occasion merited some formal introductions."

Booth directed his reply at his beautiful partner.

"Yeah, Angela, just getting into the spirit of the thing. We're all dressed up so fancy, a little formality seemed right."

"Oh." Angela drew out the syllable for perhaps six seconds longer than necessary.

"I see."

She glanced between the two once more.

"A little formality…."

The two silently nodded their agreement to her statement, never taking their gaze off the other's eyes.

"Right...so, tell me, if you guys are being so prim and proper, why are you still holding hands?"

The partners both shot their gaze downwards so quickly Angela was somewhat concerned they might get whiplash. She was absolutely right. Their hands were still entwined, Booth's thumb absently stroking Brennan's knuckles.

With a surprised "Gah!", the two jumped about a foot apart. Glancing down once more, they realised their hands were still enjoined. Each shook themselves somewhat forcefully out of the seemingly vicelike grip exerted on both sides.

The partners then stood rubbing their respective, apparently injured, hands and occasionally shooting hostile glances at the other. A running, under-the-breath mantra was continued with the phrases "inappropriate" and "overly familiar" being heard more than once from both camps.

Giggling inwardly at the pair's nonsense, Angela gestured over to Hodgins, who had just popped his head back into the entrance hall to see what was taking the women so long to join him. Zach followed closely at his heels.

The five spent a number of minutes engaged in frivolous small talk, occasionally punctuated by some observation on social behaviour from Zach and, once, from Brennan. Angela was paying scant attention to the conversation flowing back and forth between the friends; her mind was focused on the two partners who continued to flash each other squinty-eyed glares whenever they thought nobody else was looking.

Deciding it was high time to get the party started, Angela rolled her shoulders back, plastered her most engaging smile on her face and purred, "So, Booth, you never said what you think of Brennan's dress."

Brennan's attention suddenly became focused on her shoes and she hissed angrily, "Angela!"

The artist tossed her head airily and laughed, "Oh sweetie, I'm not trying to be embarrassing, I just wanna know."

Booth grinned easily at the enquiring woman and straightened his stance ever so slightly. The only way to play with Angela was to match fire with fire. After all, there was no point in getting burned.

"To be honest, Angela, I think the dress is exquisite…and Bones looks just ravishing."

Brennan let out the breath she hadn't even realised she was holding. Angela couldn't help but make a little squeaking noise at Booth's comment. Brennan was just lifting her head to shoot her partner an appreciative glance when he went on.

"Although, I have to say, I think she looks at her most beautiful when wearing just her underwear."

Brennan's eyes took on a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. She spluttered furiously as Booth reached in and ran a hand ever so softly down the side of her face.

"The set you had on earlier was just too sexy for words."

The entire crowd currently gathered in the entrance hall turned around in alarm, and a number of people came rushing out from unknown depths within the hotel, to find out what the high-pitched screaming coming from the jumping brunette was. It took Hodgins almost five minutes to convince everyone that, no, there wasn't a problem; she had simply received some VERY good news.

The rest of the evening was passed in relatively good spirits. Angela took every possible opportunity to allude to Booth's surprising revelation. Hodgins quickly realised that there was no point in trying to stop her so he contented himself with laughing heartily at every comment and innuendo she made. Zach seemed to have trouble meeting Brennan's eye and studiously avoided even the slightest display of amusement over Angela's increasingly raunchy statements when he found himself in Booth's line of vision. Booth, after all, had a gun.

Brennan was getting redder and redder with each passing hour. Her scalp prickled uncomfortably and her lungs seemed to be quite constricted, helped in no small part by the proximity of Booth's body. Booth himself took it all in his stride at first, but even he was getting slightly hot under the collar the more outrageous and acrobatic Angela's suggestions became.

Eventually Brennan decided it was time to go home. She refused Booth's offer of a lift, insisting that she didn't want for him to miss any of the party. She called a taxi for herself. Booth pronounced that if he couldn't bring her home, the least he could do was wait with her while the car came to pick her up. Realising it was useless to argue, she nodded her agreement and bid the others goodnight.

The cool evening air was refreshing against her blushing skin. She cast a fitful gaze over the bustling traffic. She was suddenly nervous in his presence.

"Are you alright, Bones?"

Her fist suddenly shot out and smacked him on the chest. He laughed in surprise and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Why did you embarrass me like that?"

"I didn't embarrass you."

She held his gaze firmly. He sighed.

"Ok, maybe I wanted to get back at you for acting like our kiss didn't affect you at all."

She looked back over the moving vehicles.

"It didn't."

"Oh, really?"

Before she had time to protest, he had pushed her up against the hotel wall. Her breathing was instantly shallow. He raised his eyebrows.

"Not even a little bit?"

She shook her head slightly frantically.

Not offering any words in response to her manically bobbing head, he moved his face closer and watched her eyes darken. The contrast of the cool, coarse wall against the bare skin of her upper back and the heat radiating from the stimulated man before her was, quite simply, delicious. He watched her eyes drop down to his lips as he slowly, and very, very deliberately, spread his tongue over them. He pushed his hips firmly against her abdomen and heard her moan softly, heat rushing to her centre while her buttocks ground against stone through the silky fabric of her dress.

"Still nothing?"

Brennan was saved having to make a breathless reply by a voice calling, "Taxi for Brennan?"

She pushed Booth away and stumbled forward, nodding quickly at the bemused looking man. She settled herself into the car without looking behind once.

As the taxi pulled out from the curb the man asked, "You not want to say goodbye to your boyfriend?"

Brennan's steely gaze met his in the rear-view mirror.

"He's not my boyfriend."

The driver chuckled softly to himself and eased the car out into the busy traffic.

"Only a matter of time, honey. Only a matter of time."


	32. Chapter 32

**Sorry for the delay in updating. Still having a serious lack of inspiration for this story. I'm continuing with this kissing storyline for now...but that can only go on for so long. We'll see what'll happen after that. Thanks so much to everyone who read and especially to those who took the time to review.**

**Still not mine. I have yet to make my peace with that little fact.**

The Angelator was the only source of light. The features of the six people in the room were thrown into sharp relief from the artificial glow of the hologram, the rest of their bodies fading into obscurity in the shadows of the darkened room.

Angela was standing with her arms crossed, stance relaxed. Hodgins was positioned nearer to her than perhaps was necessary, but the artist wasn't complaining. Zach was standing further back than anyone else, his brow furrowed in concentration. Cam was leaning her hands on the edge of the ingenious machine, squinting into the picture's depths.

Booth had placed himself beside Brennan, but not too close so as not to invade her personal space. He still had the bruise from the last time that happened and the experience was not one he cared to repeat. His mind was full of the kiss he had shared with his alluring partner three days previously and the subsequent 'almost kiss' later that same night. He kept shooting furtive glances at Brennan, trying to gage her thoughts, but she was revealing nothing. The kiss hadn't been referred to by either of them since that night and he was starting to wonder if it ever would be. But it had meant something to her. It had to have. Given the way she had reacted, her little sighs and the way she had pushed up against him and gripped on to him as though she never wanted to let go… It couldn't be just him who was this severely affected by it…could it?

"How could you two _miss_ something like…"

The sound of Cam's muttering jerked Booth out of his reminiscing. He looked wide-eyed at the floor and blurted out, "We didn't kiss…"

The beat of silence that followed this flustered denial extended into an infinity of thrumming nothingness. Taking care not to appear over-excited, so as not to scare anyone off, Angela bellowed, "KISS?! Nobody said kiss! Cam said, "miss". Ohmigod! Did you guys kiss? Like, seriously, kiss?"

Booth glanced around, utterly terrified. His neck looked like it was being held in place by some sharp pointy object, so determined was he to avoid looking at his partner, whose expression was a mixture of shock and incredulity.

He smiled weakly at the smug faces surrounding him. "Who said anything about kissing?" he squeaked piteously.

Subtle, as ever, as a mallet to the face, Zach dryly piped up, "That would be you, Agent Booth. One can only assume you were referring to your ambiguous partnership with Dr. Brennan."

Booth turned an "I-don't-even-need-a-gun-I-could-kill-you-with-my-bare-hands" look on Zach, causing the poor man to nearly fall over with fright. Hodgins leaned towards him and loudly whispered, "Now's the time to grow a pair, Z-man," which he seemed to think was invaluable advice but which, unsurprisingly, just made the recently accredited doctor angry as well as petrified.

For his part, Hodgins was looking delightedly back and forth between the embarrassed partners. He had every appearance of watching an extremely pleasing tennis match except for the fact that neither of these players were moving. They seemed to have completely lost control of their primary motor functions. Brennan, in particular, seemed to have forgotten how to close her jaw.

Angela settled herself cross-legged on the floor, pulling Hodgins roughly down beside her. Completely ignoring his grunts of protest and promises of grievous bodily harm, she stared raptly up at the flushing pair, her eyes shining. She looked like a child about to hear a particularly good bedtime story. Zach stood frozen to one spot, afraid to move lest Booth shoot him. Cam moved back to lean against the wall, loosely crossing her arms and muttering, "This should be good."

Booth heard her and growled, "No it won't coz we're not saying anything." Swatting away Booth's profession of silence as though it were an annoying insect, Angela turned her body to face Brennan, nearly dislocating Hodgins' kneecap in her eagerness.

"So, so, so…how did it happen? When did it happen? I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner, sweetie. And you, Mr. Silent but Deadly F.B.I. man. Didn't think it was a good idea to spill the best piece of gossip I've heard all year? So, was it very gentle and romantic or did he push you up against the wall and…" Angela's excitement was causing her to trip up over her words and muddle herself. She rambled into silence, blinking in confusion.

Hodgins took advantage of her temporary speechlessness to say to Brennan, "Yeah, that" he gestured towards Angela, who was now silently mouthing all of the words she had just said, to make sure she'd said it all correctly, "but, you know, in English."

Booth took a step forward, waving a hand in front of his body, and loudly declared, "Look, we didn't kiss. Nothing happened." At the same time, Brennan looked in utter astonishment at Angela and whispered, "How did you know about the wall?"

Angela did a little sitting down jig of happiness. Hodgins let out a low, approving whistle. Zach let out a quiet little gasp then quickly looked around him as though to distract from the fact that he had acknowledged the information. Cam's eyebrows had shot towards the ceiling, a smile dominating her amused face.

Booth had smacked his palm loudly against his forehead. He looked slightly cross-eyed as he glared at Brennan and grumbled, "Well, she knows about it now." The anthropologist gazed wide-eyed and innocently at Booth, while gently pointing a finger in Angela's direction, "Yeah, but, she… Anyway, I didn't say anything important because it's not as though you kissed me then anyway. You were just teasing me."

Booth gave a bug-eyed look to their crestfallen audience, nodding significantly. "Listen to the lady. She speaks the truth."

Brennan nodded in agreement and continued, "You kissed me earlier. In the shop."

Booth groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Not the _whole_ truth! You're not meant to _tell _them the _whole_ truth."

Brennan cast him a very angry look. "Well, I'm sorry, you should have specified that."

Booth grunted and muttered something about how people should have the cop-on to know these things without being told.

Brennan's face darkened and she stated loudly, "If I'd been telling them the whole truth I would have said that you barged in on me while I was changing. Then you kissed me. When I was just wearing my underwear."

For a moment the room was completely silent. Then Angela seemed to explode in a very high-pitched and squeaky manner. Hodgins stuffed his fingers in his ears and lamented, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this." Zach had a very satisfied expression on his face, as though something had just become clear to him. "That's what he was talking about at the dinner," he murmured to nobody in particular.

Booth took a step towards Brennan, his body shaking with rage. "What the hell did you go and say that for? Some things are meant to be private."

Not one to be intimidated, Brennan took a step forward of her own and spat, "What, so private that they can't even be mentioned between the two people concerned?"

Booth took another baby step forward, his shoes stopping mere centimetres from hers. "I'm not the one who wasn't mentioning it. You haven't said a word about it."

Not to be outdone Brennan edged herself towards her partner. Their chests were now pressed tightly together, Brennan having to nearly look vertically upwards in order to see Booth's face.

"So, after you initiate things and later embarrass me and then try and…I don't know…seduce me later…" Booth started yelling loudly in protest at this point "I'M meant to be the one who starts the conversation about it?"

Booth didn't reply. He simply glared down at her while she glowered resolutely back. The air surrounding them seemed to crackle with their undeniable chemistry. Their frenzied, angry breathing sounded through the room like thunder.

The tension was suddenly broken by Hodgins poking Angela painfully in the ribs with his elbow and loudly declaring, some might even say screaming, "Looks like we might be getting an encore…"

This effectively shattered the uncertainty between the two. Booth roughly straightened up, pulling his face back from where it had slowly been inching towards his trembling partner. He backed away quickly. Brennan stumbled backwards too, gasping slightly as though something very powerful had just released her.

Refusing to look at anybody, Booth barrelled towards the door and left. After a split second, Brennan raced after him. A moment was taken by those remaining to wonder if they should give the two some privacy. Then they all tore after the retreating pair, tripping up in their eagerness to get out the door.

They joined the proceedings just as Booth was reaching the exit. Brennan was visibly flustered, standing about fifteen feet behind him, apparently at a loss for what to say. Then, suddenly, her anger won out and she yelled at his hunched back, "You like kissing so much, Booth, why don't you just kiss my _ass_?" Booth turned back to her, an angry and gleeful smile stretched across his shining face.

"_Gladly_!" he roared back. With that he marched through the door, slamming it behind him. Brennan turned on her heel and strode off to her office, the sound of her heels pounding off the tiles reverberating around the spacious lab.

The others were left shaking with laughter at Brennan's ridiculous attempt to use derogatory catchphrases, of which she knew next to nothing, and of Booth's inadvertent admittance that he found his partner physically attractive. They all nodded at each other in a very pleased way. An extremely productive day indeed.


	33. Chapter 33

**I am SO incredibly sorry for the massive delay...I have truly run out of ideas for SS...for the moment. I'm hoping to come back to it, I just don't have the inspiration at this point in time. So, I'm gonna officially declare this "on hiatus"...it just didn't seem fair to do that without leaving you guys a little somethin'!**

**Good lord...this was only ever meant to be about 5 chapters...funny how these things work out!**

**I don't own Bones. If I did, I'd pay the writers and get this marvellous show back on the air.**

The following day, Brennan sat scribbling furiously at her desk. She was currently using her third pen, having snapped the other two because she was pushing down on them so hard, and on her sixth piece of paper, as she had already ripped the other five clean in half with the excessive force she was using to scrawl her words.

Needless to say, she was peeved.

She had attempted to write up some reports on her computer but the keyboard hadn't taken very kindly to the pounding of her fingers, so she figured making a note of things the old fashioned way would be safer. This wasn't necessarily true.

She was so engrossed in her little display of anger that she didn't hear her partner knock timidly on the door. Nor did she hear it open slightly as he poked an eye fearfully in to gage the explosive potential of the situation. Unfortunately for Booth, an eye alone wasn't sufficient so the door had to pushed the relevant amount in to allow for his head to wiggle through.

This movement she noticed.

She turned a ferociously furious glare on him. He could feel his knees quiver slightly in spite of himself.

Part of him wanted to run, screaming, for the hills and never set foot in the Jeffersonian again, but the other, more stubborn part (the part he knew would one day eventually win out when he thought about telling Brennan just how much he cared about her) refused to back down.

He strode into the room and shut the door.

Her eyes widened slightly at his persistence.

A moment or two of silence passed before she carelessly brushed a few locks of hair out of her face and drawled, "What do you want, Booth?"

To Brennan's amazement, the man seemed to physically puff out in frustration, much like she imagined a particularly indignant blowfish would.

"So, what, Bones, we're just not going to have a normal conversation now? I'm gonna have to need a solid, work-orientated reason every time I want to see you?"

She bounced her head from side to side in a very non-committal manner. When Booth raised his eyebrows incredulously she let out a low humming sound.

Shaking his head, he clarified through clenched teeth, "Look, I don't want anything to get in the way of our friendship so how about I just forget about the fact that you basically blurted out a very intimate detail to a roomful…"

Surprisingly enough, he didn't seem quite ready to forget just yet.

Brennan also didn't seem to be capable of forgetting because she cut him off before his sentence was even finished.

"I blurted out…! Well you never said it was a secret! You didn't talk about it, didn't act like it was a big deal so how was I supposed…"

Booth quickly ran a hand across his forehead and waved her silent. This blame game was getting them nowhere. They were going to simply have to rise above the petty disagreement if they were to have any chance of getting back to normal.

"Ok, fine, well then, how 'bout we say that things were said that shouldn't have been and that we're both sorry?"

Brennan thought about this and pursed her lips for a second. Finally she nodded curtly.

"But I'm not sorry."

Booth threw up his hands in frustration and glared at the stubborn woman before him.

"Fine. Well, then we'll just have to agree to disagree."

Brennan began moodily pulling on a non-existent thread on the hem of her top. She nodded once.

Sighing in relief, Booth allowed his shoulders to finally drop. It felt as though he hadn't lowered them in about a week.

"It's all your fault though, Booth. You started it."

He had been mad to think she'd let it go without a fight. Well then, neither would he.

"My fault? How is it _my_ fault?"

"You looked at me with those eyes."

Booth blinked. "I…I looked at you with my eyes?"

"Yes." She shot him a withering look; as though she was disgusted he wasn't grasping the logic of her simple argument.

"And then you made those little growling sounds…like this…" She let out something that sounded rather impressively like a lion warning off intruders.

"I did _not_!"

"You did too!"

"Well…well you started making these moaning noises that were all mixed in with your little sighs…didn't know what to think…"

At that, he started making rather breathless cries of extreme pleasure.

Brennan's face flushed and her eyes narrowed. She moved out from behind her desk, continuing the bizarre growling sounds as she did. Booth therefore saw no reason in stopping his own little satisfied gasps.

"I have never made noises like that in my life, Booth."

His eyes glinting dangerously and his mouth curling in a rather sinister smile he stated, "Well then you obviously haven't been with very…_capable_ men."

Her eyes widened at this claim. She faltered for a moment then moved so suddenly that she was pressed up against him before he knew what happened. Booth was so startled that he briefly forgot all about his satisfied noises.

"Well at least I wasn't the one trying to cop a feel of the other person's butt."

At that, she slid a hand around Booth's body and took a fairly decent handful of his posterior.

Booth made no attempt to push her hand away. In fact, if anything, in his surprise, he even slightly backed up into the embrace. In his surprise, of course. He did, however, have the sense of mind to bellow, "I did NOT cop a feel of your butt! I didn't touch your…you know…there."

Brennan loosened her grip ever so slightly, her eyes flashing.

"Well, you were gonna. Your hands were moving south and I'm fairly sure I know the reason why..."

She squeezed a little harder and resumed her growling.

Booth purpled and began making pleasurable cries once more.

"Well if we're gonna get into the things people might or might not have been thinking about doing then I might as well do this."

With that he looped his arms behind her head, trailing his fingers gently off the bare skin exposed between her hairline and her top. He barely registered the frisson of excitement that shot through Brennan's body at the contact. He was too busy focusing on the fact that their faces were now in extremely close proximity.

Within kissing range, one might say.

Slightly breathless, Brennan managed to gasp, "I would never wrap my arms around your neck."

His eyes glinted, challenging her.

She ignored the bait and continued, "You, on the other hand, definitely wrapped a hand around my waist."

She lifted up her free hand, the one that wasn't currently clamped on his butt, and wrapped it around his middle, pulling their bodies even closer.

"Well," Booth had to lick his lips here: his mouth was suddenly very dry, "Well, you had your chest all pushed out up against me and your butt sticking out nearly into the next cubicle."

He shoved his chest forward quite an exaggerated amount and stuck his behind out so much that his lower back was almost parallel to the floor. Brennan would have surely toppled over if their bodies weren't doing such a good job of supporting one another.

Neither seemed quite sure what to do now. Both were somewhat disorientated and flushed by their closeness, their warm bodies touching off and clutching at one another while their breaths mingled and fluttered against their burning faces. The moans and growling continued.

Luckily for them, a certain artist solved this particular conundrum for them.

Angela had been growing quite concerned about her friend's foul humour. She had a pretty good idea about what had caused it and when her suspicion turned up in the flesh, looking rather determined, her trepidation increased.

Booth had disappeared into Brennan's office, well, he had half-slunk, half-fallen in, but entered it he had. Almost immediately terse voices were heard, harsh judgements being exchanged.

The volume of the voices had increased and there had been a thumping as though someone was manoeuvring around furniture in a very angry manner. This was followed by an ominous silence.

Knowing Brennan as she did and Booth to a somewhat lesser degree, Angela was fairly certain they would not have succumbed to their intense repressed feelings once more. Much as she loathed admitting to it, she knew that particular bud would take its time in bearing fruit.

Safe in this knowledge, she was instead worried about the pair's physical health. There was a fairly good chance they had simply killed each other. So, Angela had to do the responsible thing and check.

Blowing out a quick breath of air and allowing her hands one last and final shake of restless nerves, she squared her shoulders and pushed open the door.

She needed a moment to process the scene before her. Booth and Brennan were standing very close; intimately close, in front of one another.

Brennan was making some, rather realistic, deep animal growling sounds in the back of her throat. Booth was panting and moaning at such an exaggerated rate he seemed like a cartoon character on some serious narcotics.

Brennan had one hand clamped very firmly on Booth's butt. Booth had his chest pushed forward to such an extent that Brennan was nearly bending backwards to accommodate him. His butt was pushed out into the middle of next week, making it rather difficult for Brennan to maintain her vicelike grip on it. Indeed, Booth's body was so contorted, he looked rather like a bizarre backwards z shape, tipped over. Booth had his hands hooked behind Brennan's head, while her non-butt-gripping hand was looping his waist.

It took a moment for the pair to notice her. When they did, all they could do was stand, frozen and slack-jawed, neither able to think of a reasonable explanation to justify their current position.

Angela spun on the spot, eyes like a deer in the headlights. This was too weird, even for her. There wasn't a sound as she stepped through the doorway once more. The silence continued as she pulled the door toward her retreating figure, making her parting shot all too audible for the stunned partners.

"You guys need help."


End file.
